J/^  >/^^/  ^^t 


^^7^ 


HAMULUS    SCIENCE    OF    ELOCUTION. 


Bhrom  Rev.  O.  N.  Hartshorn,  LL.D.,  President  of  Mount  Union 
College. 

Feeling  a  deep  interest  in  the  important  subject  of  Elocution,  and 
being  personally  acquainted  with  Professor  S.  S.  Hamill,  a  scholar  and 
gentleman  of  high  standing,  I  take  the  liberty  to  introduce  him  to  the 
favorable  consideration  of  all  persons  interested  in  this  too  much  neglect- 
ed branch  of  education.  Mr.  Hamill  is  the  most  accomplished,  thorough, 
and  systematic  teacher  of  Elocution  that  I  have  ever  met.  He  has 
taught  some  five  classes,  composed  of  students  and  professors  of  Mount 
Union  College,  with  satisfactory  results.  I  attended  three  of  these 
classes  with  great  profit  and  pleasure  to  myself.  While  Mr.  Hamill 
has  been  here  he  has  arranged  a  simple  diagram,  which,  in  my  judg- 
ment, gives  in  one  view  to  the  eye  an  accurate  and  comprehensive 
outline  of  each  style  of  utterance.  I  have  examined  it  carefully,  and 
think  it  highly  adapted  in  its  plan  and  execution  to  illustrate,  when 
explained  by  him,  that  most  difficult  and  important,  but  too  much 
neglected,  department  of  education,  the  various  qualities,  forms,  stress, 
pitch,  and  movement  of  voice,  to  be  exemplified  in  the  utterance  of 
each  style  of  sentiment.  O.  N.  Hartshorn. 

Sept.  9,  1861. 

From  Rev.  D.  A.  Wallace,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  Monmouth  Col- 
lege, Monmouth,  III. 
I  have  known  Professor  S.  S.  Hamill  as  an  instructor  in  Elocution 
for  nearly  fifteen  years.  He  has  conducted  many  classes  in  Monmouth 
College  with  unusual  success.  From  my  knowledge  of  his  manu- 
script, his  system  of  Elocution  and  methods  of  instruction,  I  expect 
that  his  book  will  at  once  take  a  very  prominent  place  among  text- 
books in  Elocution.  I  shall  not  be  surprised  to  learn  that  it  has  su- 
perseded all  others.  David  A.  Wallace. 

From  Rev,  H.  P.  Tappan,  D.*D.,  LL.D.,  Chancellor  of  Michigan 


It  affords  me  much  pleasure  to  commend  Mr.  S.  8.  Hamill  to  Col- 
leges and  Schools  as  a  teacher  of  Elocution.  Mr.  Hamill  is  himself  an 
excellent  elocutionist,  but  this  would  be  of  small  account  if  he  merely 
taught  his  pupils  to  imitate  his  own  manner  and  tones.  His  worth  as 
an  instructor  in  this  very  important,  but  too  much  neglected,  branch 


2  HAMILL'S  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

consists  in  the  nculcation  of  correct  principles  of  Elocution,  and  in 
Bubjecting  Ms  pupils  to  a  proper  drill  of  the  voice.  His  aim  is  to  cor- 
rect bad  habits  of  pronunciation  and  intonation,  and  to  bring  out  the 
natural  power  and  compass  of  the  human  voice.  He  is,  besides,  very 
faithful  and  diligent,  and  spares  no  pains  to  accomplish  his  object. 
Mr.  Hamill  succeeds  also  in  winning  the  esteem  and  respect  of  his 
pupils  hj  his  gentlemanly  bearing.  He  has  formed  voluntary  classe* 
in  this  institution  for  two  successive  seasons,  and  has  given  great  sat- 
isfaction. Henry  P.  Tappan. 
Dec.  7,  1S60. 

From  Andrew   D.  White,   LL.D.,   President  of  Cornell  University, 
late  Frofessor  of  History  and  English  Literature^  Michigan  University. 

University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Oct.  8, 1860. 
Mr.  S.  S.  Hamill  has  tauuht  large  "Elocution  classes  in  this  institution, 
and  has  given  perfect  satisfaction. 

His  exercises  for  developing  the  voice,  and  inculcating  its  right  tone, 
cannot,  I  think,  be  surpassed.  A.  D.  White. 

From  William  Russell,  Professor  of  Elocution^  Lancaster^  Mass.^ 

author  of  Vocal  Culture^  Pulpit  Elocution^  eto,^  etc. 
Professor  Hamill — Dear  Sir  :  Your  favor  of  the  ninth  gave  me 
the  rare  pleasure  of  perceiving  that  Dr.  Rush's  Philosophy  of  the 
Voice,  as  exemplified  in  my  manual  of  Orthophony,  (or  Vocal  Culture,) 
has  led  an  intelligent  and  accomplished  teacher  of  Elocution  to  prose- 
cute for  himself  the  analysis  of  vocal  expression  into  its  interesting  and 
instructive  details.  The  closeness  of  your  investigations  must  have 
oeen  a  source  of  great  pleasure,  as  well  as  conscious  intellectual  disci- 
pline, to  yourself,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  will  greatly  enhance  the 
benefit  of  your  instructions  to  others.  .  .  .  Let  me  assure  you  that  the 
ingenuity  and  thoroughness  of  your  scheme  gives  me  peculiar  pleasure, 
from  the  attempt  to  give  philosophical  completeness  to  a  tabular  view 
of  the  phenomena  of  vocal  expression.  Dr.  Rush's  exhaustive  analy- 
sis of  the  facts  of  the  human  voice  has  rendered  it  practicable  aud  easy 
for  teachers  who  are  so  disposed  to  be  philosophically  comprehensive, 
as  well  as  scientifically  exact,  in  their  plan  and  method  of  instruction 
in  this  wide  field  of  useful  and  interesting  knowledge.  All  we  have  to 
do  is  to  follow  in  detail  and  exemplification  his  five  primary  principlefl 
of  Force,  Pitch,  Time,  Quality,  and  Stress. 

Cordially  yours,  William  Russell. 

Fixmi  Datus  C.  Brooks,  Adjunct  Professor  of  Rhetoric  and  EnglUh 
Literature.  University  of  Michigan. 
Mr.  S.  S.  Hamill  ha^  c^i^ring  the  past  year  given  lessons  in  Elocution 
in  this  University,  \\\i\i  the  consent  and  warm  approbation  of  the 
faculty.  The  members  of  the  faculty  interested  particularly  in  this 
object,  and  myself  among  the  number,  have  been  desirous  of  securing 


HAMILL'S  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION.  8 

Mr.  Hamill's  services  permanently  here,  but  on  account  of  greatly  in- 
creased expenses  in  other  directions  that  has  been  impossible.  The 
exercises  have  therefore  been  voluntary  on  the  part  of  the  students. 
Large  classes  have  been  formed,  cojnposed  of  students  and  profes- 
sional men  in  the  city,  and  the  best  satisfaction  has  been  expressed  by 
all.  I  have  both  attended  Lis  classes  as  an  observer  and  been  myself 
under  his  instruction.  Speaking,  therefore,  on  positive  grounds,  I 
should  say  that  among  his  most  useful  qualities  as  a  teaclier  are  untir- 
ing patience  and  energy,  readiness  and  discrimination  in  criticism, 
and  that  knowledge  of  theory  and  practical  skill  combined,  which  ren- 
der one  capable  both  of  giving  specific  directions  and  of  furnishing 
correct  models  for  the  student  to  follow.  We  have  had  other  teachers 
of  Elocution  in  this  University,  but  none  so  successful  in  his  instruc- 
tions. Regretting  that  we  cannot  retain  Mr.  Hamill  permanently  here, 
he  has  my  most  cordial  commendation  and  warmest  wishes  for  his 
success  in  the  chosen  profession  of  his  life.  Datus  C.  Brooks. 

Dec,  18,  1860. 

From  Alexander  Campbell,  President  of  JBethariy  College^  Va. 

Haying  recently  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  the  distinguished  Elo- 
cationist,  Mr.  S.  S.  Hamill,  deliver  himself  on  the  science  and  the  art 
of  Elocution,  in  doing  which  he  so  scientifically  and  also  artistically 
exhibited  the  orator  in  utterance  and  in  action,  I  cannot  but  recom- 
mend him  to  all  those  youth  who  desire  to  acquire  either  the  theory 
or  the  practice  of  this  most  interesting  and  useful  science  and  art. 

April  10,  1801.  A.  Campbell. 

Fr(ym  W.  K.  Pendleton,  Vice-Pt^esident  of  Bethany  College. 

To  all  who  are  interested  in  the  attractive  art  of  Elocution  we  take 
pleasure  in  tendering  a  very  cordial  introduction  of  Mr.  Hamill.  He 
has  made  Elocution  his  special  profession,  and  besides  his  own  very 
high  attainments  in  its  practice,  is  eminently  gifted  as  a  teacher  of  it 
to  others.  He  has  given  instruction  to  a  number  of  voluntary  classes 
in  Bethany  College,  and  with  the  most  marked  success.  His  gentle- 
manly bearing,  his  accomplished  mastery  over  his  subject,  his  great 
fidelity  and  energy  as  a  teacher,  and,  withal,  his  genuine  enthusiasm  in 
the  noble  art  of  Elocution,  make  Mr.  Hamill  a  welcome  instructor  to 
all  who  take  his  lessons. 

His  method  is  strictly  scientific,  and  as  a  teacher  he  labors  to  point 
out  and  exemplify  the  principles  and  exercises  by  which  excellence  in 
oratorical  utterance  not  only  may^  but  must  be  reached.  "We  trust  that 
Mr.  Hamill  will  be  encouraged  and  sustained  in  his  generous  efforts  to 
elevate  the  tone  of  our  Elocution,  and  that  in  his  hands  this  much 
neglected  and  sometimes  despised  element  of  a  polished  education 
may  be  invested  with  new  interest,  and  raised  to  a  noble  place  in  the 
courses  of  our  colleges.  W.  K.  Pendletos 

April  18,  18G1. 


4  HAMILL'S  science   of  ELOCUTIOlSr. 

From  J,  Baldwin,  A.M.,  President  of  North  Missouri  State  Norma 
,  School. 
Professor  S.  S.  Hamill,  one  of  the  ablest  teachers  of  Elocution  now 
living,  has  been  secured  to  give  a  course  of  twenty  lessons  in  this  im- 
portant branch. 

From  the  PROrESSORS  and  Students  of  Washington  College,  Pa. 

Professor  Hamill  discusses  the  subject  in  a  manner  highly  scientific  ; 
his  course  of  lessons  is  systematically  arranged,  and  eminently  com- 
prehensive ;  and  we  consider  his  admirable  system  of  gesticulation 
invaluable  to  all  who  would  cultivate  a  graceful  and  impressive 
delivery.  Professors  and  Students  of  Washington  College. 

Sept.  1, 1861. 

From  the  Bloomington  Daily  Pantagraph,  Jan.  12,  1871. 
Professor  Hamill  has  but  one  rival  in  the  country,  James  E.  Mur- 
doch. 

From  the  Pittsburgh  Daily  Gazette. 
Professor  Hamill  is  one  of  the  most  accomplished  readers  of  our 
country. 

From  the  Ohio  Educational  Journal. 
As  a  teacher  of  Elocution,  Professor  Hamill  has  no  superior  in  the 
United  States. 

From  the  Mount  Pleasant  Journal^  Oct.  15,  1869. 
An  audience  was  never  better  entertained  than   the  one  which 
assembled  in  Saunder's  Hall  on  Thursday  evening  last  to  hear  the  dis- 
tinguished Elocutionist,  S.  S.  Hamill.    His  readings  and  recitations 
far  surpass  any  thing  we  ever  heard. 

From  the  Iowa  City  RepuhUcan. 
Professor  Hamill  is  master  of  his  profession,  and  will  interest,  in- 
Btruct,  and  amuse  his  audience. 

From  the  Spirit  of  the  West. 
The  exercises  in  Elocution  at  the  Teachers'  Institute  of  Monroe 
county  were  conducted  by  Professor  S.  S.  Hamill,  of  Hlinois  Wesleyan 
University,  one  of  the  finest  teachers  of  Elocution  in  the  United 
States.  His  lectures  do  not  for  a  moment  fail  to  interest,  being 
pointed,  logical,  practical,  and  so  varied  that  the  most  idle  spectator 
cannot  even  for  a  moment  forget  his  presence*     * 

From  the  Daily  Leader^  Jan.  13, 1871. 
Professor  Hamill  is  a  very  superior  actor.    We  have  seen  but  few 
better;  and  we  are  glad  to  know  that  the  University  is  so  fortunate 
as  to  have  the  services  of  one  in  every  way  so  capable. 

Thousands  of  Testimonials  might  be  added  to  the  above. 


THIfi 


SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION 


EXERCISES    AND    SELECTIONS 

SYSTEMATICALLY  ARRANGED    FOR   ACQUIRING 

By  S.  S.  HAMILL,  A.M., 

CHiOACSO,     ILL.. 

•^TE  PROFKSSHR  OF  RHETORIC,  PJNGI.ISH  LITERATURE,  AND   ELOCUTION, 

ILLINOIS  WESLEYAN   UNIVERSITY,  BLOOMINGTQN,  ILL., 

STATE  UNIVERSITY,  COLUMBIA,  MO. 


NEW   YORK: 
PHILLIPS    &    HUNT. 

CINCINNATI  : 
^A^AL,DEN     &     STOWE, 

1881. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1872,  by 

NELSON   &   PHILLIPS, 

in  the  Ojfice  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 

EOUCATIOM  DPPT. 


P  H  E  F  A  C  E. 


In  lb^>  belief  that  Elocution  should  be  studied  as  a 
scionco  a-s  well  as  practiced  as  an  art,  the  following 
pages  are  presented  to  the  public. 

The  r^esign  of  the  work  is  to  unfold  the  principles  of 
Elocunon,  to  show  their  application  to  the  different 
forms  of  thought  and  emotion,  to  classify  selections 
under  their  appropriate  styled,  and,  in  connection  there- 
with, to  furnish  sufficient  exercises  for  the  cultivation  of 
the  articulation,  the  tones  of  the  voice,  and  the  graces  of 
manner. 

That  Elocution  is  a  science,  that  there  are  certain 
established  principles  observed  by  all  good  speakers  and 
violated  by  all  bad  ones,  none  will  deny  who  have  care^ 
fully  investigated  the  subject.  To  understand  and  to 
practically  illustrate  these  principles  should  be  the 
prominent  object  of  the  student  of  Elocution. 

Without  this  all  cultivation  of  the  voice  and  manner 
will  be  of  little  avail.  Instances  are  numerous  of  stu- 
dents who  have  carefully  and  diligently  practiced  the 
exercises  for  the  cultivation  of  the  voice  and  manner,  so 
abundant  in  the  various  works  on  Elocution,  and  have 
derived  therefrom  all  the  advantages  they  propose,  and 
fet  good  readers  and  speakers  are  very  rare. 

541^03 


;0r  .','■;  ;      ;    /.        '.  PREFACE. 

A  radical  defect  exists  somewhere,  or,  contrary  to  all 
experience  and  testimony,  the  ability  to  read  and  speak 
well  is  not  an  acquirement.  An  experience  of  nearly 
twenty  years  as  a  teacher  in  this  department  has  con- 
vinced the  author  that  the  study  cf  Elocution  usually 
ceases  where  it  really  should  begin,  namely  with  the 
adaptation  of  the  tones  of  the  voice  and  the  expression 
of  countenance  to  the  sentiment  uttered. 

To  correct  in  some  degree  this  defect,  and  to  awaken 
a  deeper  interest  in  the  subject  of  Elocution^  is  the  hope 
of  the  author  in  the  present  publication. 

When  Elocution  shall  be  studied  in  our  colleges  and 
universities  as  a  science,  its  principles  known  and  prac- 
ticed, then,  and  not  till  then,  will  good  speaking  be  the 
rule,  and  not,  as  now,  the  rare  exception. 

S,  S.  BL 

'710  West  Monroe-st.,  Chicago,  111. 


CONTENTS. 


Pagi 

BLOCtrriON 19 

Tabular  7iew  oi  the  Science  op  Elocution 20 

PAKT  I. 

EXPRESSION. 
CHAPTER  I. 

ABTICULATION. 

Chart  op  Elementary  Sounds 22 

Position  op  Body 23 

Suggestions 23 

Exercises  in  Long  Yocals 24 

"          Short  Yocals 27 

'*          Diphthongs 30 

"           SUB-YOCALS 31 

"          Aspirates 37 

"          Difficult  Combinations 41 

CHAPTER  n. 

besfibatiok. 

Exercises  in  Breathing 48 

"          Effusive  Yocal  Breathing 49 

**          Expulsive  Yocal  Breathing 49 

**          Explosive  Yocal  Breathing 49 

CHAPTER  m. 

VOICE. 

Attributes  op  Yoioh 60 

Form  op  Yoice 51 

Effusive  Form 61 

Exercises  in  Effusive  Form 52 

Application  of  Effusive  Form 52 


10  CONTENTS. 

Pagb 

Illustrations  op  Effusive  Form 53 

Advantages  of  Effusive  Form 53 

Expulsive  Form 54 

Exercises  in  Expulsive  Form 54 

Application  of  the  Expulsive 54 

Illustrations  of  Expulsive  Form 55 

Advantages  of  Expulsive  Form b*l 

Explosive  Form b1 

Exercises  in  Explosive  Form 58 

Application  of  Explosive  Form 58 

Examples  of  Explosive  Form 59 

Advantages  of  Explosive  Form 59 

Quality  of  Voice 60 

Pure  Tone 61 

Exercises  in  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form 62 

Application  of  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form 62 

Examples  of  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form 62 

Exercises  in  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form 63 

Application  of  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form 64 

Examples  of  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form 64 

Exercises  in  Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form 65 

Application  of  Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form 65 

Advantages  of  Pure  Tone 66 

Orotund 66 

Exercises  in  Orotund,  Effusive  Form 61 

Application  of  Orotund,  Effusive  Form 68 

Examples  of  Orotund,  Effusive  Form 68 

Exercises  in  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form 69 

Application  of  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form 69 

Examples  of  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form 69 

Exercises  in  Orotund,  Explosive  Form '71 

Application  of  Orotund,  Explosive  Form '72 

Examples  of  Orotund,  Explosive  Form '72 

Advantages  of  Orotund '73 

Aspirate '74 

Exercises  in  Aspirate,  Effusive  Form "74 

Application  of  Aspirate,  Effusive  Form '75 

Examples  of  Aspirate,  Effusive  Form "75 

Exercises  in  Aspirate,  Expulsive  Form "76 

Application  of  Aspirate,  Expulsive  Form '76 

Examples  of  Aspirate,  Expulsive  Form *i1 

Exercises  in  Aspirate,  Explosive  Form '78 

Application  of  Aspirate,  Explosive  Form - .  TS 

Examples  of  Aspirate,  Explosive  Form 18 

Advantages  of  Aspirate 18 

Pectoral "79 

Exercises  in  Pectoral,  Effusive  Form "79 

Application  of  Pectoral,  Effusive  Form "79 

Examples  of  Pectoral,  Effusive  Form '79 

Exercises  in  Pectoral,  Expulsive  Form 8] 


CONTENTS.  11 

Pagb 

i*.ppLiOAiiON  OP  Pectoral,  Expulsive  Poem  . . . . , 81 

Examples  of  Pectoral,  Expulsive  Form 81 

Exercises  in  Pectoral^  Explosive  Form 83 

Application  of  Pectoral,  Explosive  Form . . 83 

Examples  of  Pectoral,  Explosive  Form 83 

Advantages  of  Pectoral 84 

Guttural 84 

Exercises  in  Guttural,  Effusive  Form 84 

Application  of  Guttural,  Effusive  Form 85 

Examples  of  Guttural,  Effusive  Form 85 

Exercises  in  Guttural,  Expulsive  Form 85 

Application  of  Guttural,  Expulsive  Form 85 

Examples  of  Guttural,  Expulsive  Form 86 

Application  of  Guttural,  Explosive  Form 86 

Examples  of  Guttural,  Explosive  Form 86 

Advantages  of  Guttural 86 

Oral 81 

Application  of  Oral 87 

Examples  of  Oral 87 

Advantages  of  Oral 88 

Nasal 88 

Force 89 

Divisions  of  Force 90 

Exercises  in  Force 90 

Subdued  Force — Application  of 91 

Examples  of  Subdued  FoRCe 91 

Moderate  Force — Application  of 92 

Examples  of  Moderate  Force 92 

Energetic  Force — Application  op 95 

Examples  of  Energetic  Force 95 

Impassioned  Force — Application  of 97 

Examples  of  Impassioned  Force 97 

a.dvantages  of  force 99 

Stress 99 

Eadical  Stress 100 

Exercises  in  Radical  Stress 100 

Application  of  Radical  Stress 100 

Examples  of  Radical  Stress 101 

Advantages  of  Radical  Stress.  ; 102 

Median  Stress 103 

Exercises  in  Median  Stress 103 

Application  of  Median  Stress 103 

Examples  in  Median  Stress , 104 

Advantages  of  Median  Stress c .  106 

Final  Stress 106 

Exercise  in  Final  Stress 106 

Application  of  Final  Stress 106 

Examples  in  Final  Stress 107 

Advantages  of  Final  Stress 108 

Compound  Stress 109 


12  CONTENTS* 

Pagb 

Exercises  in  Compound  Stress 109 

Application  of  Compound  Stress 109 

Examples  in  Compound  Stress.  ...  * 110 

Advantages  op  Compound  Stress 110 

THOROuan  Stress 110 

Exercises  in  Thorough  Stress '. .  Ill 

Application  op  Thorough  Stress HI 

Examples  op  Thorough  Stress Ill 

Advantages  of  Thorough  Stress 112 

Intermittent  Stress 113 

Exercises  in  Intermittent  Stress ]  13 

Application  of  Intermittent  Stress 113 

Examples  in  Intermittent  Stress 114 

Advantages  of  Intermittent  Stress 114 

Pitch 115 

Divisions  of  Pitch 116 

Exercises  in  Pitch 117 

Middle  Pitch — Application  of 118 

Examples  of  Middle  Pitch 118 

Low  Pitch — Application  of 120 

Examples  of  Low  Pitch 120 

High  Pitch — Application  op 121 

Examples  of  High  Pitch 121 

Very  Low  Pitch — Application  of 123 

Examples  of  Very  Low  Pitch 123 

Very  High  Pitch — Application  op ^25 

Examples  of  Very  High  Pitch 125 

Advantages  of  Pitch 126 

Movement 127 

Divisions  of  Movement 127 

Exercises  in  Movement 127 

Moderate  Movement — Application  op 128 

Examples  of  Moderate  Movement 128 

Slow  Movement — Application  op 130 

Examples  of  Slow  Movement 130 

Yery  Slow  Movement — Application  op 131 

Examples  op  Very  Slow  Movement 132 

Raped  Movement — Application  of 133 

Examples  in  Rapid  Movement.  1 133 

Very  Rapid  Movement — Application  op 134 

Examples  in  Very  Rapid  Movement 135 

Advantages  of  Movement ,   136 

Accidents  op  Voice 138 

Quantity 138 

Long  Quantity 139 

Exercises  in  Long  Quantity 139 

Application  of  Long  Quantity 139 

Examples  op  Long  Quantity 139 

Short  Quantity 141 

Exercises  in  Short  Quantity 141 


CONTENTS.  18 

PAGK 

Application  of  Short  Quantity 141 

Examples  op  Short  Quantity 141 

Advantages  of  Quantity 142 

Inflections , .  144 

Rising  Inflection .  1 44 

Exercises  in  Rising  Inflection 144 

Application  of  Eising  Inflection  of  Second ^ . .  145 

Examples  of  Rising  Inflection  of  Second 145 

Application  of  Rising  Inflections  of  Third  and  Fifth 145 

Examples  of  Rising  Inflections  of  Third  and  Fifth 145 

Application  of  Rising  Inflection  op  Octave 147 

Examples  of  Rising  Inflection  of  Octave 147 

Falling  Inflection 147 

Exercises  in  Falling  Inflection 148 

Application  of  Falling  Inflection 148 

Examples  of  Falling  Inflections  of  Second  and  Third 148 

Examples  of  Falling  Inflections  of  Third  and  Fifth 149 

Examples  of  Falling  Inflections  of  Third,  Fifth  and  Octave  149 

Advantages  of  Inflection 151 

Circumflex 151 

Application  of  Circumflex 152 

Examples  of  Circumflex , 152 

Advantages  of  Circumflex 152 

Cadence 152 

Examples  in  Cadence 153 

Advantages  of  Cadence 153 

Pauses 1 54 

Application  of  Pauses 1 54 

Examples  of  Pauses 154 

Emphasis — Kinds  op 157 

Emphasis  of  Force 158 

Examples  of  Emphasis  op  Force 159 

Emphasis  of  Stress 159 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Radical  Stress 159 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Median  Stress 159 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Final  Stress 160 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Compound  Stress 160 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Thorough  Stress 160 

Emphasis -OF  Quality 161 

Example  of  Emphasis  of  Aspirate  Quality 161 

Example  of  Emphasis  of  Pectoral  Quality 161 

Example  of  Emphasis  of  Guttural  Quality 161 

Emphasis  of  Pitch 162 

Examples  of  Very  High  Pitch , 162 

Examples  of  Very  Low  Pitch 162 

Emphasis  of  Movement 165 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Slow  Movement 165 

Examples  of  Emphasis  of  Rapid  Movement 165 

Advantages  of  Movement 165 

Climax 167 


14  CONTENTS. 

Paqb 

Examples  of  Climax 167 

Grouping — Advantages  of 170 

Illustrations  of  Grouping 170 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ACTION. 

Positions  of  Feet 177 

Changes  in  Position  of  Feet 180 

Position  of  Body 180 

Position  of  Arms  in  Repose 1 80 

Position  of  Arms  in  Gesture 181 

The  Hand 182 

Positions  of  Hand 182 

Accompaniments  of  Gesture 183 

Qualities  of  Gesture 185 

Adaptation  of  Gesture 187 

Significant  Gestures 188 

The  Eye  and  Countenance 189 

The  Passions 191 

Picture  of  the  Passions 193 


PAET  II. 

DEDUCTIONS. 
CHAPTER  I. 

STYLES. 

Diagram  of  Styles 210 

Explanation 211 

CHAPTER  n. 

PATHETIC     STYLE. 

Death- Bed. — Thomas  Hood. 212 

The  Pauper's  Death-Bed. — 3Irs.  Southey 212 

My  Mother's  Bible. —  G.  P.  Morris 213 

The  Old  Arm-Chair. — Eliza  Cook 214 

The  Burial  of  Arnold. — N.  P.  Willis 215 

The  Last  Footfall 217 

Anabel  Lee. — Edgar  A.  Poe 218 

The  Bridge  of  Sighs. — Thomas  Hood 219 

The  Grave  of  the  Beloved. —  Washington  Irving 22 i 


CONTENTS.  15 
CHAPTER  III. 

SERIOUS     STYLE. 

Pagb 

NiCARER  Home. — Phele  Cary 224 

Th e  Heavenly  Canaan. —  Watts 225 

In  the  Other  "World. — Mrs.  H,  Beecher  Stowe 225 

If  We  Kneivt 227 

Forty  Tears  Ago 228 

The  Mountains  op  Life. — J.  G.  Clark 230 

The  Isle  of  Long  Ago. — B.  F.  Taylor 231 

God  the  True  Source  of  Consolation. — Moore 232 

G-ratitude. — Addison 232 

Over  the  River. — Miss  Priest 233 

CHAPTER  IV. 

TRANQUIL     STYLE. 

R.AIN  ON  THE  Roof. —  Coates  Kinney 235 

Night.— >SfAeZ/e?/ 236 

The  Light-House. — Moore 236 

Musings. — Amelia 237 

The  Rainbow. — Amelia 239 


CHAPTER  V. 

GRAVE     STYLE. 

Inspiration  of  the  Bible. —  Winthrop 241 

Goodness  of  God 242 

Access  to  God. — James  Eamilton 242 

Infidelity  Tested 243 

Religion  the  Only  Basis  of  Society. —  W.  E.  Ghanning 244 

Promises  of  Religion  to  the  Young. — Alison 245 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DIDACTIC     STYLE. 

Cheerfulness 247 

Be  Comprehensive 248 

Hamlet's  Advice. — ShaJcspeare. 249 

Industry  and  Eloquence. —  Wirt, 249 

No  Excellence  Without  Labor. —  Wirt 251 

Advice  to  Young  Lawyers. — Judge  Story 252 

Modulation. — Lloyd. 253 

Don't  Run  in  Debt. — Eliza  Cook 254 

Queries 255 


16  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  Vn, 

LIVBLYBTYLB. 

PA€>H 

Personalities  and  Uses  of  a  Laugh 257 

Paddle  Your  Own  Canoe. — Mrs.  Sarah  T.  Bolton 258 

I'm  With  You  Once  Again. — G.  P.  Morris 260 

A  Psalm  of  Life. — LongfeUow 260 

CHAPTER  Vm. 

GAYSTYLB. 

Spring. — Bryant. 262 

Young  Lochinvar. — Scott. 262 

Let  Us  Try  to  be  Happy * 264 

Coquette  Punished 264 

Rhyme  of  the  Rail. — Saxe 266 

CHAPTER  rX. 

JOYOUS     STYLE. 

GuNEOPATHY. — Saxe 269 

Mercutio's  Humorous  Description  of  Queen  Mas. — Shakspeare  270 

CHAPTER  X. 

SUBLIMESTYLB. 

In  Memoriam — A.  Lincoln. — Mrs.  Bughee 272 

Break  1  Break !  Break  1 — Tennyson 273 

God. — Derzhavin 274 

God's  First  Temples. — Bryant 277 

The  Closing  Year. — Prentice 280 

Morning  Hymn  to  Mont  Blanc. — Coleridge 282 

CHAPTER  XI. 

ORATORICAL     STYLE. 

Reply  to  Mr.  Wickham  in  Burr's  Trlil,  1807. —  Wirt 285 

Aristocracy. — Rohert  R.  Livingston 286 

General  Government  and  the  Statjss. — Alexander  Hamilton, .  287 

Patriotic  Self-Sacrifice. —  Giay 288 

Ambition  of  a  Statesman. —  Clay 289 

Nationai  Character. — Maxey 290 

Responsibilities  of  our  Republic. — Joseph  Story 291 

Duty  of  Literary  Men  to  their  Country. —  Grimke 291 

American  Laborers. — Naylor 29.3 

Napoleon  Bonaparte. — Phillips. 294 


CONTENTS.  17 

Paqb 

Unjust  National  Acquisition. — Thomas  Corwin 296 

Our  System  of  Public  Instruction  should  Distinctly  Incul- 
cate A  Love  of  Country.— iVet(;fo7z  Bateman 297 

Appeal  in  Behalf  of  Ireland. — S.  S.  Prentiss 299 

Glorious  New  England. — S,  S.  Prentiss 301 

Speech   Before   the  Yirginia    Convention   of    Delegates, 

March,  1775. — Patrick  Henry 302 

Supposed  Speech  of  James  Otis. — Mrs.  L.  M.  Child 304 

RiENzi's  Address  to  the  Romans. — Miss  Miiford 306 

CHAPTER  XIL 

OBATORICAL     SUBLIME. 

Death  of  John  Quincy  Adams. — L.  E.  Holmes «...  308 

Death  of  Alexander  Hamilton.— i)/*.  Noit 309 

CHAPTER  Xni. 

IMPASSIONED  POETIC  STYLE. 

Hate  of  the  Bowl 311 

The  American  Flag. — J".  R.  Drake 312 

The  Rescue  of  Chicago. — H  M.  Look 314 

Sheridan's  Ride. — T.  Buchanan  Read. 316 

CHAPTER  XTV. 

SHOUTING     STYLE. 

The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade. — Tennyson 318 

Bugle  Song. — Tennyson 320 

From  Marmion  and  Douglas. — Scott 320 

From  Marco  Bozzaris. — Halleck 321 

Tell's  Address  to  the  Alps. — J.  S.  Knowles 321 

CHAPTER  XV. 

VEHEMENT     STYLE. 

Cataline^s  Defiance.— CroZy 322 

The  Seminole's  Defiance.—  G.  W.  Patten 323 

Spartacus  to  the  GtLADIAtors  at  Capua. — E.  Kellogg, 324 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

DRAMATIC     STYLE. 

From  on  Board  the  Cumberland,  March  7,  1862. — George  H, 

Boker 327 

Abou  Ben-Adhbm. — Leigh  Himt 328 

2 


18  CONTENTS. 

Tabm 

The  Sexton. — Park  Benjamin 329 

Curfew  Must  not  Ring  To-night. — Eosa  A.  Hartwick 329 

John  Burns  op  Gettysburg. — F.  Bret  Harte 331 

Poor  Little  Jim 334 

Gambler's  Wife. —  Coaiea \  335 

The  Beautiful  Snow.— Jarne^  W.  Watson 336 

Maud  Muller. — J.  G.  WhUtier 338 

Creeds  of  the  Bells. — Bungay 342 

Irish  Woman's  Letter 344 

On  the  Shores  of  Tennessee 345 

The  Vagabonds. — Trowlridge 347 

On  Board  the  Cumberland. — Boker 350 

The  Bi&LL^.— Edgar  A.  Foe 354 

Charlie  Machree. —  William  J.  Hopper 357 

The  Rising,  1776.-71  Buchanan  Read 358 

The  Polish  Boy. — Mrs.  Ann  S.  Stephens 360 

Count  Candespina's  Standard. — Boker 364 

The  Baron's  Last  Banquet. — A.  G,  Green 367 

Bernardo  Del  Carpo. — Mrs.  Hemans. 369 

The  Raven. — Edgar  A.  Foe 371 

Scene  from  Hamlet 375 


HUMOROUS    STYLE. 

Evening  at  the  Farm.— */:  T.  Trmjohridge 378 

Idyl  of  the  Period. — Baker 379 

Pyramus  and  Thisbe. — Saxe 381 

Mb.  Pickwick's  Proposal  to  Mrs.  Bardell. — Dickem 384 

Our  Guides  in  Genoa. — Mark  Twam 387 


THE 


SCIENCE    OF    ELOCUTION. 


.     ELOCUTION. 

Elocution  is  the  Science  and  Art  of  expressing  thought 
and  feeling  by  utterance  and  action. 

As  a  science,  it  unfolds  the  principles  of  reading  and 
speaking ;  as  an  art,  it  embodies  in  delivery  every  accom- 
plishment, both  of  voice  and  action,  necessary  to  appro- 
priate expression. 

The  requisites  of  a  good  elocution  are, 

First,  Distinct  articulation ; 

Second,  Full  and  free  respiration ; 

Third,  Perfect  control  of  a  clear,  full,  round,  musical 
tone  of  voice ; 

Fourth,  Graceful  and  expressive  action ; 

Fifth,  Cultivated  taste  and  judgment. 


20 


SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


TABULAR   VIEW   OF   THE   SCIENCE   OF    ELOCUTION. 


1.  EXPEES- 
SION 


2.  DEDUC- 
TIONS.. 


1.  Articu- 
lation".. 

2.  Kebpiea- 
TION 


3.  Voice. 


'  Vocals. 

Sub  -Vocals. 

Aspirates. 
'  Effusive. 

Expulsive. 

Explosive. 


1.  Attributes.  - 


4.  Action. 

Pathetic. 

Serious. 

Tranquil. 

Grave. 

Didactic. 

Lively. 

Gay. 

Joyous. 

Sublime. 

Oratorical. 

Impassioned 

Shouting. 

Vehement. 


Movement. 

Quantity. . 
Inflections. 
Waves .... 
Cadence. . . 
Pauses.... 

Emphasis. 


Climax. 
^Grouping, 
Lower  Limbs  and  Hody, 
Arms  and  Hands. 
Face. 


2.  Accidents.' 


Form 

Quality . . . 

Force 


Stress. . 


Pitch . 


Effusive. 

Expulsive. 
.  Explosive. 
''  Pure  Tone. 

Orotund. 

Aspirate. 

PectDraU 

Guttural. 
,  Oral. 

Subdued. 

Moderate. 

Energetic. 

Impassioned 

Radical. 

Median. 

Final. 

Compound. 

Thorough. 

Intermittent 

Very  High. 

High. 

Middle. 

Low. 

Very  Low. 

Very  Rapid. 

Rapid. 

Moderate. 

Slow. 

Very  Slow. 

Long. 

Short, 

Upward. 

Downward. 

Upward. 

Downward, 

Complete. 

Partial. 

Long. 

Short. 
'  Force. 

Stress. 

Quality 
I  Pitch. 


Poetic. 


PAET    1 
EXPRESSION. 

The  term  expression  includes  all  that  part  of  Elocu- 
tion which  relates  to  articulation,  respiration,  vocaliza- 
tion, and  action. 

» 

CHAPTER    I. 

ARTICULATION. 

Articulation  is  the  utterance  of  the  elementary  sounds 
of  a  language  by  the  appropriate  movements  of  the. 
organs  of  speech. 

A  ready  and  distinct  articulation  is  an  indispensable 
requisite  to  good  reading. 

Owing  to  bad  habits  acquired  in  early  youth,  and  to 
defective  systems  of  instruction,  but  few  persons  pos- 
sess this  invaluable  accomplishment. 

Frequent  and  careful  practice  on  the  elementary 
sounds  will  in  almost  every  case  correct  defects,  and 
impart  a  ready  and  distinct  articulation. 

SECTION  I. 

ELEMENTARY   SOUNDS. 

An  elementary  sound  is  a  sound  produced  by  a  single 
impulse  of  the  organs  of  speech. 

Phonologists  pretty  generally  agree  that  there  are 
forty-four  elementary  sounds  in  the  English  language. 


22'  aOIjE^OE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

These  sounds  are  represented  by  letters  and  characters. 
The  sounds  are  divided  into  vocals,  sub-vocals,  ai>.l 
aspirates  ;  the  letters  into  vowels  and  consonants. 

CHART  OP  THE  ELEMENTARY  SOUNDS. 

Long  Yooals. 
1.  e,  as  in  me,  eve. 

serge,  verge, 
aim,  ale. 
air,  care, 
arm,  farm, 
or,  for. 
oak,  no. 
ooze,  do. 

Diphthongs. 

16.  I,  as  in  ice,  lie.  18.  %  as  in  mute,  tube. 

17.  oi,    '*     oil,  boil.  19.  ou,    *'     out,  sound- 

SuB-YocALS. —  Correlatives, 
20.  b,  as  in  boy,  ebb. 


2. 

5, 

(C 

3. 

a, 

(( 

4. 

&, 

tt 

5. 

a, 

ti 

6, 

6. 

C( 

1. 

0, 

(C 

8. 

e, 

cc 

Short ' 

Vocals. 

9. 

1,  as  in  ill,  it. 

10. 

g,    " 

ell,  let. 

11. 

6,    « 

odd,  not. 

12. 

ii,    *' 

up,  sup. 

13. 

a,    « 

add,  sad. 

14. 

a,    « 

ask,  task. 

15. 

u,    " 

full,  pulL 

21. 

d, 

(C 

did,  rod. 

22. 

g, 

C( 

go,  rag. 

23. 

S, 

cc 

gem,  judge. 

24. 

V, 

ii 

veer,  valve. 

25. 

th, 

ii 

this,  breathe. 

26. 

z, 

ii 

zone,  zeal. 

27. 

zh, 

ii 

azure,  seizure, 

SuB-YocALS. — Liquids. 

28.  1,  as  in  lo,  will. 

29.  r,      "     row,  roar. 

30.  m,    "    moon,  home. 

31.  n,     "     no,  moon. 

32.  ng,  ''     sing,  ring. 


ELEMENTARY  SOUNDS.  23 

SuB-YocALS. — Coalescmts. 

33.  w,  as  in  we,  wit. 

34.  y,      "     yet,  you. 

Aspirates. — Explodents. 

35.  p,  as  in  pin,  pipe. 

36.  t,       "     till,  spot. 

37.  k,      "     kick,  neck. 

38.  ch,   "     church,  which. 

Aspirates. —  Continuants, 

39.  f,  as  in  fife,  stifi*. 

40.  th,   "     think,  breath. 

41.  s,     "     see,  pass. 

42.  sh,  "     shine,  wish. 

43.  h,     "     he,  hat. 

44.  wh,  "    whence,  what. 

SECTION  n. 
EXERCISES    IN   ARTICULATION. 

The  following  exercises  are  designed  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  a  distinct  and  accurate  articulation.  Syllabica- 
tion, accent,  and  pronunciation,  though  all  important  in 
reading  and  speaking,  do  not  properly  belong  to  a  work 
on  Elocution.  They  can  only  be  thoroughly  learned 
from  the  unabridged  dictionaries. 

Position  of  the  Body. 
The  pupil  should  be  careful,  when  practicing  the  fol- 
lowing exercises,  to  maintain  an  erect  position  of  the 
body,  keep  the  head  up,,  the  chest  expanded,  and  the 
shoulders  well  back. 

Suggestions. 
These  exercises  are  not  designed  merely  for  those 
whose  articulation  is  defective.      Persons  who  speak 


24  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

with  even  more  than  ordinary  accuracy  will  be  greatly 
benefited  by  frequent  practice  on  the  elementary  sounds. 

That  the  highest  advantage  may  be  derived  from  this 
practice  let  there  be  no  feeble  work. 

Repeat  each  exercise  with  energy,  clearness,  and 
precision. 

Before  uttering  any  word  or  sentence  repeat  a  num* 
ber  of  times  the  element  for  the  cultivation  of  which 
the  exercise  is  specially  designed. 

In  pronouncing  the  long  vocals,  which  admit  of  in- 
definite prolongation,  be  careful  not  to  drawl  them. 

Exercises  on  the  elementary  sounds  are  now  so  gen- 
erally practiced  in  the  primary  schools  and  at  colleges, 
and  the  positions  and  actions  of  the  organs  in  the  pro- 
duction of  these  sounds  so  accurately  taught,  that  a 
detailed  discussion  of  them  here  is  deemed  unnecessary. 

Exercises  on  the  Long  Vocals. 
I.  e,  as  in  me. 

he,  the, 

meed,  heed, 

breathe,         these, 

1.  I  believe  it  every  word. 

2.  I  mean  what  I  say. 

3.  Seems,  madam  !  nay,  it  is. 

4.  Tell  them  we  need  no  change. 

5.  Be  not  overcome  by  evil. 

6.  Heat  me  these  irons  hot. 

7.  I  must  be  brief. 

8.  We  must  believe  to  be  saVed. 

II.  e,  as  in  earth. 

earth,  ermine,  verge, 

prefer,  mirth,  serge. 


be. 

eve, 

need. 

seed, 

please. 

least. 

ARTICULATION.  25 

1.  The  unsullied  sanctity  of  your  ermine. 

2.  I  prefer  not  to  do  it. 

3.  He  is  on  the  verge  of  ruin. 

4.  Crown  him  with  myrtle. 
6.  I  am  in  earnest. 

m.  a,  as  in  aim. 

aim,  ale,  pay,  may, 

age,  pale,  lame,  slay, 

pray,  day,  clay,  vain. 

1.  If  we  fail  we  can  do  no  worse. 

2.  He  is  a  saint. 

3.  He  may  pray,  but  it  will  be  all  in  vain. 

4.  They  say  that  we  will  fail. 

5.  May  we  pay  our  way  ? 

6.  He  is  afraid  of  me. 

7.  Nay,  after  that,  consume  away  in  rust. 

8.  Away  !  away  !  let  me  not  see  thy  face. 

IV.  k,  as  in  air. 

their,  lair,  dare,  hair, 

chair,  prepare,        prayer,  despair. 

1.  The  air  is  very  cool. 

2.  Dare  to  do  right. 

3.  Swear  by  my  sword. 

4.  Air,  earth,  and  sea,  resound  his  praise.  * 

5.  Come,  boy,  prepare  yourself. 

6.  Where  shall  the  lover  rest  ? 

Y.  There  through  the  summer  day. 
8.  Scarce  are  boughs  waving. 

V   a,  as  in  arm. 

arm,  harm,  charm,  farm, 

qualm,  calm,  balm,  alarm, 

palm,  psalm,  ma'am,  father. 


nor, 

fall. 

all, 

tall. 

small, 

pall. 

26  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

L  To  arms !  to  arms  !  they  cry. 

2.  The  night  was  calm  and  beautiful. 

3.  Hast  thou  a  charm  to  stay  the  morning  star  ? 

4.  I  will  not  harm  thee,  boy. 

5.  The  psalm  was  warrior  David's  song. 

6.  The  balmy  breath  of  incense-breathing  mom. 

7.  A  qualm  of  conscience  brings  me  back  again. 

8.  Father,  thy  hand  hath  reared  this  venerable  column, 

VI.  6,  as  in  or. 

or,  for, 

north,  war, 

law,  corn, 

1.  My  voice  is  still  for  war. 

2.  The  law  must  be  obeyed. 

3.  The  cause  stands  not  on  eloquence,  but  stands  on 
laws. 

4.  All  that  I  am,  all  that  I  hope  in  this  life,  I  am  now 
ready  to  stake  on  it. 

5.  The  north  is  wild  with  alarms. 

6.  I  come  not  here  to  talk. 

7.  His  tall  form  taller  seemed, 

8.  The  pall  was  settled. 

Vn.  6,  as  in  no. 

no,  go,  lo,  woe, 

home,  old,  bold,  glorious, 

sold,  enrolled,       fold,  gold. 

1.  Paid  my  price  in  paltry  gold. 

2.  No,  no,  gentlemen,  gold  cannot  purchase  it. 

3.  They  have  enrolled  us. 

4.  Thou  glorious  mirror. 

5.  Fold  her  hands  lightly. 

6.  Home,  thy  joys  are  passing  lovely. 


ARTICULATION.  27 

7.  Woe,  unto  thee,  Chorazin ! 

8.  The  bold,  brave  boy  of  GlingaL 

Vin.  Q,  as  in  ooze. 

who,  ooze,  fool,  stool, 

moon,  room,  boon,  soon, 

loom,  doom,  noon,  choose. 

1.  Thy  doom  is  fixed. 

2.  The  fool  hath  said,  No  God. 

3.  There  is  no  longer  any  room  for  hope. 

4.  The  moon's  pale  light. 

6.  Soon  we  shall  join  the  kindred  dead. 

6.  The  blood  oozed  from  his  ghastly  wound. 

7.  Who  dare  assert  it  ? 

8.  You  denied  me  this. 


Exercises  on  Short  Vocals. 

IX.  1,  as  in  ill. 

ill,                 it,                  will. 

fill. 

in,                  rip,                inch. 

ink, 

rid,                pith,             risk, 

tilL 

1.  I  will  never  submit. 

2.  Rid  me  of  these  vagabonds. 

3.  It  is  I ;  be  not  afraid. 

4.  Inch  by  inch  we  will  dispute  the 

ground. 

6.  I'll  risk  my  life  upon  it. 

6.  Ill-mannered  wretch. 

7.  If  I  can  catch  him  once  upon  the  hip. 

8.  Three  millions  of  people  armed 

in  the  holy  cause 

Ol  liberty. 

X.  S,  as  in  ell. 

ell,                let,                end. 

deck, 

neck,            wreck,          pet. 

send. 

men,             pest,             jet. 

death* 

28 


SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


1.  The  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand. 

2.  Let  come  what  may. 

3.  The  people  are  in  debt. 

4.  Men,  men,  for  shame,  thus  to  yield. 

5.  I  would  never  lay  down  my  arms,  never,  never. 

6.  This  in  a  moment  brings  me  to  my  end. 

7.  But  this  informs  me  I  shall  never  die. 
8   Up  to  the  spar  deck ! 

XI.  5,  as  in  odd. 

odd,  not,  on,  stop, 

cot,  rob,  rock,  rod, 

got,  nod,  sod,  rot. 

1.  And  the  rock  shall  rear  its  head. 

2.  Stop  !  for  thy  tread  is  on  an  empire's  dust. 

3.  Odd !  'tis  very  odd  indeed. 

4.  Let  the  carrion  rot. 

5.  Unconsciously  he  executes  the  will  of  God. 

6.  His  lot  is  a  hard  one. 

Y.  This  rock  shall  fly  from  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  L 

8.  On,  on,  you  noble  English. 


XIL  ti,  as  in  up. 

up,               sup. 

cup. 

skull, 

but,              us. 

hut. 

hub. 

hug,             bud, 

run. 

gun. 

1.  Up,  comrades,  up  ! 

2.  Give  me  rum !  O  give  me  rum  I 

3.  The  cup  is  full  of  poison. 

4.  They  sup  full  well. 

5.  Your  apprehension  must  be  dull. 

6.  That  skull  had  a  tongue  in  it  once. 

7.  Don't  give  up  the  ship. 

8.  They  tell  us  that  we  are  weak. 


ARTICULATION".  29 

Xm.  a,  as  in  add. 

add,  sad,  had,  mat, 

bad,  back,  cat,  rat, 

battle,  scaffold,        satisfy,  that. 

1.  His  countenance  was  sad. 

2.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  alone. 

3.  What  will  satisfy  you  ? 

4.  Back  to  thy  punishment,  false  fugitive. 
6.  Add  to  your  virtue,  faith. 

6.  The  scaffold  has  no  terrors  for  me. 

7.  Let  me  die  like  a  man. 

8.  That  will  be  justice. 

XIV.  a,  as  in  ask. 

ask,  task,  flask,  mask, 

fast,  hasp,  grant,  branch. 

grass,  pass,  mass,  clasp. 

1.  Pass  the  shadow  but  a  hair. 

2.  Ask  and  you  shall  receive. 

3.  The  grass  grows  green  above  her  grave. 

4.  The  task  is  done. 

5.  Fast  hurrying  through  the  outer  door. 

6.  Grant  me  but  an  hour  of  life. 

7.  And  clasping  to  his  heart  his  boy,  he  fainted  on 
the  deck. 

8.  Fast  bind,  fast  find. 

XV.  u,  as  in  full. 

fiill,  pull,  put,  puss, 

push,  bullet,  bullion,         fuller. 

1.  Full  many  a  gem  of  richest  ray  serene. 

2.  Pull,  pull  for  your  lives. 

3.  The  bullet  passed  near  his  face. 

4.  The  fuller  fulls  his  cloth. 


try, 

fie. 

kite, 

ripe, 

vise, 

isle 

80  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Exercises  on  Diphthongs. 
XVL  I,  as  in  ice. 
ice,  lie, 

mile,  figlit, 

spike,         •     bide, 

1.  A  mile  or  two  at  most. 

2.  Let  him  bide  his  time. 

3.  My  name,  my  fame,  must  be  unsullied. 

4.  And  give  thee  in  thy  teeth  the  lie. 

5.  His  form  is  held  as  in  a  vise. 

6.  The  vile  wretch. 

7.  The  isles  of  Greece,  the  isles  of  Greece. 

8.  I'll  fight  till  from  my  bones  my  flesh  be  hacked. 

XVn.  oi,  or  oy,  as  in  oil. 
oil,  boil, 

voice,  toil, 

boisterous,  noise, 

1.  My  voice  is  still  for  war. 

2.  What  noise  is  that  I  hear  ? 

3.  Rejoice,  ye  men  of  Anglers. 

4.  The  boisterous  waves  lashed  the  shore; 
6.  Let  not  the  sacred  soil  be  polluted. 
6.  The  toil-worn  traveler  enters. 
Y.  Joy,  joy !  shout  aloud  for  joy  ! 
8.  The  spoil  shall  be  the  victor's  reward. 

XVrn.  u,  as  in  mute. 

tube,  duke,  beauty,  amuse, 

subdue,       fury,  usage,  use, 

value,         statue,         renew,  few. 

1.  Few  shall  part  where  many  meet. 

2.  The  demand  determines  the  value. 

3.  The  curfew  tolls. 


foil, 

soil, 

boy, 

joy, 

rejoice, 

turmoiL 

ARTICULATION.  81 

4.  He  knew  that  it  was  wrong. 

5.  The  general  reviewed  his  army. 

6.  He  was  mute  with  astonishment. 
V.  The  statute  forbids  it. 

8.  Renew  it  o'er  and  o'er. 

XIX.  ou,  as  in  out. 

out,  sound,  hour,  thou, 

plow,  now,  thousand,     round, 

pound,        bound,  mount,  fount. 

1.  Out,  out,  brief  candle! 

2.  Put  out  the  light,  and  then  put  out  the  light. 

3.  Now,  by  the  gods  above  us,  sires  ! 

4.  A  thousand  at  thy  side  shall  fall. 

6.  A  day,  an  hour,  of  virtuous  liberty  is  worth  a  whole 
eternity  of  bondage. 

6.  Bound  thy  desires  by  thy  means. 
'7.  Thou  hast  destroyed  us. 
8.  Sound,  sound  the  alarm ! 

Exercises  on  Sub -Vocals. —  Correlatives. 

XX.  b,  as  in  boy. 

bad,  boon,  bind,  bend, 

brown,         beck,  beat,  beg, 

orb,  tube,  curb,  rub, 

dub,  nib,  mob,  rob. 

1.  Bind  beauteous  boughs  upon  his  brow. 

2.  Bend  not  before  the  beauteous  vision. 

3.  Be  brave,  be  bold,  for  good. 

4.  Brave  boys  of  Bengal. 

6.  Basely  they  bound  him  to  the  beach. 

6.  The  bards  of  the  Bible. 

7.  Benjamin  Brown  bought  the  book. 

8.  He  is  a  bold,  brave,  bad  boy. 


dead, 

delve, 

deep, 

deed, 

sad, 

lad. 

bard, 

defend. 

82  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

XXI.  d,  as  in  did. 

doom,  duty, 

day,  defy, 

add,  mad, 

head,  hard, 

1.  Dare  to  do  right. 

2.  Down  on  thy  knees,  thy  doom  is  sealed. 

3.  Deep  calleth  unto  deep. 

4.  Do  you  dare  defy  my  authority  ? 

5.  Down  the  long  dark  line. 

6.  Despair  not  of  success  m  the  darkest  day. 

7.  Did  you  say  David  is  dead  ? 

8.  Despise  not  the  day  of  small  things. 

XXIL  g,  as  in  go. 

give,  gone,  gad,  grmd, 

grant,  gasp,  g^ad,  g^^ilt, 

liag,  rag,  lag,  log, 

tug,  sag,  fag,  dog 

1.  Gold  gave  thee  all  thy  grace. 

2.  Grasp  the  goal  and  gain  the  prize. 

3.  Grant  ye,  O  grant  ye  this  boon  to  me . 

4.  Gather  graces  from  the  groves. 
6.  Go,  give  thy  gains  away. 

6.  Gather  not  greedily  the  gold. 

7.  God  grant  thee  grace. 

8 .  Glory  gathers  on  his  brow. 

XXIII.  g,  as  in  judge. 

gem,  join,  cage,  jade, 

jam,  jag,  jeer,  jar, 

jump,  June,  jolt,  jovial 

1.  Join,  all  ye  people,  in  his  praise. 

2.  Gems  of  richest  ray  serene. 


ARTICULATION. 


33 


8.  Justice  should  join  with  mercy. 

4.  Justly  judge  the  cause. 

5.  Journeymen  do  not  always  deal  justly. 

6.  Juno,  the  sister  and  wife  of  Jupiter. 
Y.  Jocund  John  jokes  jocosely. 

8.  Join  the  everlasting  jubilee. 


XXIV.  V,  as  in  veer, 
vale,  void, 

vary,  vase, 

have,  live, 

love,  above, 

1.  Value  virtue  highly. 

2.  Vile  villains  vent  their  vengeance. 

3.  Valiant  deeds  deserve  praise. 

4.  Vengeance  belongeth  to  the  Lord. 

5.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you. 

6.  Vagabonds  wander  idly  around. 

7.  Vain,  vain  are  all  thy  efforts. 

8.  Various  views  are  entertained. 


value 

vile, 

vent, 

valve, 

brave, 

save, 

give. 

behava 

XXV.  th,  as  in  this. 

this,  their,  them,  then, 

thence,         there,  than,  that, 

breathe,       beneath,         wreathe,         weathe). 

1.  This  is  the  place,  the  center  of  the  grove. 

2.  Thou  breathest,  silent  the  submissive  waves. 

3.  Beneath  those  ragged  elms,  that  yew  tree's  shade, 

4.  Breathes  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead. 
6.  Wreathe  flowers  for  the  valiant  dead. 

6.  That  thou  shouldst  die. 

7.  The  vessel  weathered  the  storm. 

8.  There  is  now  no  longer  any  room  for  hope. 

3 


84  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

XXVI.  z,  as  in  zone, 
zone,              zeal,  zest,  zebra, 
zero,              zinc,  zigzag,  zenith, 
has,               was,  cause,  rouse. 

1.  The  zeal  of  thy  house  hath  eaten  me  up. 

2.  He  has  reached  the  zenith  of  his  glory. 

3.  Zeno  was  zealous  in  his  work. 

4.  He  has  zeal  without  knowledge. 

5.  The  cause  will  raise  up  men. 

6.  Rouse,  ye  Romans,  rouse ! 

7.  The  zephyr  breathes  calmly. 

8.  Zion,  the  joy  of  all  the  earth. 

XXVII.  zh,  as  in  azure, 
azure,        pleasure,     seizure,  measure, 
erasure,     treasure,     composure,     disclosure. 

1.  The  measure  of  man  is  mind. 

2.  Your  pleasure  shall  be  the  law. 

3.  The  treasures  of  the  universe  are  his. 

4.  The  seizure  was  made  according  to  law. 
6.  Not  like  those  steps  on  heaven's  azure. 

Exercises  on  Sub -Vocals. — Liquids. 
XXVIII.  1,  as  in  lo. 
loud,  long, 

land,  lend, 

fall,  all, 

1.  Lo,  the  poor  Indian  ! 

2.  Leaves  have  their  time  to  fall. 

3.  Leave  me,  leave  me  to  die  alone. 

4.  Land,  land  ahead. 

5.  Little  lads  like  looking  about. 

6.  Learned  lads  like  long  lessons. 

7.  Last,  last,  lordliest  of  lords. 

8.  Lord  Leland  long  loved  the  landlady  of  Leicester 


leave, 

last, 

least. 

loose, 

call. 

wall. 

ARTICULATION. 

XXIX.  r,  as  in  row 

roar,             roam, 

roast. 

reel. 

round,          rise, 

river. 

reap, 

flour,            fear. 

near. 

sear. 

85 


1.  Rough  and  rugged  rocks  rear  their  heads  high  in 
air. 

2    Kound  the  rade  ring  the  ragged  rascal  ran. 

3.  Robert  rebuked  Richard,  who  ran  roaring. 

4.  Rich,  ripe,  round  fruit  hung  round  the  room, 

5.  Real  riches  rise  from  within. 

6.  Return,  O  holy  Dove,  return  ! 

1.  Roderick  Random  ran  a  ridiculous  race. 
8.  Rivers  to  the  ocean  rim. 

XXX.  m,  as  in  mow. 

moon,  morn,  move,  mop, 

man,  mind,  malt,  mine, 

arm,  farm,  harm,  warm.* 

1.  Many  men  are  misled  by  fame. 

2.  More  than  mortal  man  may  not  be. 

3.  Much  learning  hath  made  thee  mad. 

4.  Milestones  mark  the  march  of  time. 

5.  More  misery  may  yet  be  mine. 

6.  Mournfully  they  march  to  the  martial  music. 

7.  Men  may  rise  by  their  own  merit. 

8.  May  thy  memory  be  embalmed  in  the  hearts  of 
men. 


XI.  n, 

as  in 

no. 

noon. 

now, 

near. 

name, 

new, 

nice. 

never. 

nest, 

fan. 

man. 

ran. 

won. 

1.  Name  not  the  gods,  thou  boy  of  tears. 

2.  No  nation  need  despair. 


86  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

3.  Not  now,  I^eighbor  N'orton. 

4.  Near  by  the  spring  upon  a  tree  you  know  I  cut 
your  name. 

5.  No  man  knows  the  future. 

6.  Now  none  so  poor  to  do  him  reverence. 

7.  I  would  never  lay  down  my  arms,  never,  never, 
never ! 

8.  Napoleon's  noble  nature  knew  no  niggardly  notions. 

XXXII.  ng,  as  in  sing. 

wing,  ring,  long,  song, 

bring,  thing,  doing,  ringing, 

arming,         h^arning,       rising,  warring. 

1.  Bring  flowers,  sweet  flowers. 

2.  Long  may  it  wave. 

3.  Standing  on  the  confines  of  another  world. 

4.  Living,  we  will  maintain  it. 

5.  Dying  we  will  assert  it. 

6.  It  is  my  living  sentiment. 

Y.  By  the  blessing  of  God  it  will  be  my  dying  sen 
timent. 

8.  Nothing  but  death  can  separate  us. 

Exercises  on  Sub-Yocals. —  Coalescents. 
XXXIIL  w,  as  in  wit. 

was,  wise,  word,  wind, 

war,  wan,  wild,  well, 

weed,  weld,  wear,  week. 

1.  Wild  was  the  night. 

2.  Weep  not  for  me. 

3.  When  wisdom  shall  return. 

4.  Well  have  they  done  their  part. 

5.  Wise  men  will  rule  well. 

6.  Wisdom  is  above  rubies. 


yard, 

yea, 

yacht, 

yawl, 

yelk, 

yelp, 

youth. 

your. 

ARTICULATION.  37 

*i.  Was  ever  woman  in  this  humor  wooed  ? 
8.  Was  ever  woman  in  this  humor  won  ? 


XXXIV.  y,  as  in  yet. 
you,  yes, 

yawn,  year, 

yell,  yellow, 

yield,  young, 

1.  Yield  to  mercy  while  'tis  offered  to  you. 

2.  Yet  I  say  unto  you  that  Solomon  in  all  his  glory 
v^as  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these. 

3.  Yield,  madman,  yield,  thy  horse  is  down. 

4.  Young  men  ahoy  ! 

5.  Youth  is  the  seed-time  of  life. 

6.  Yonder  comes  the  powerful  king  of  day. 

7.  Yesterday  shall  be  as  to-day. 

8.  Year  after  year  our  blessings  continue. 

ExEECiSES  ON  AspiEATES. — Mcplodents. 
XXXY.   p,  as  in  pin. 


pipe, 

place. 

page. 

post. 

port. 

play. 

poor. 

pope. 

pony. 

pop, 

point. 

ply, 

poem. 

press. 

prove. 

proud. 

1.  Prove  all  things. 

2.  Poverty  and  pride  are  poor  companions. 

3.  Perish  my  name  ! 

4.  Perhaps  her  love,  perhaps  her  kingdom,  charmed 
him. 

5.  Pickwick  Papers,  part  first. 

6.  Pour  this  pestilence  into  her  eyes. 

7.  Pictures  of  palaces  please  the  eye. 

8.  Pious  people  praise  the  Lord. 


toy, 

time, 

tat, 

tart. 

tight, 

trout, 

tangle, 

tartan. 

88  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

XXXVI.  t,  as  in  tip. 
top,  till, 

tap,  tag, 

test,  tent, 

tartar,  tassel, 

1.  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not. 

2.  Time  and  tide  wait  for  no  man. 

3.  Turn  their  uprooted  trunks  toward  the  skies. 

4.  Tremble  and  totter,  ye  adamantine  mountains, 

5.  Teaching  the  rustic  moralist  to  die. 

6.  Teach  the  truant  child  to  pray. 

7.  Two  guests  sat  at  the  feast. 

8.  Tar,  tallow,  tumeric,  turpentine,  and  tin. 

XXXYII.  k,  as  in  kick. 


kin. 

keel. 

keep. 

ken, 

key, 

kind, 

king, 

kiss, 

kite. 

kirk. 

cart, 

cape, 

kink. 

kith. 

call, 

cost. 

1.  Keep  thy  own  counsels. 

2.  Come  in  consumption's  ghastly  form. 

3.  Kites  rise  against  the  wind. 

4.  Clean,  placid  Leman. 

5.  Kill  a  king. 

6.  Crown  the  victor. 

7.  Kindness  kills  the  cause  of  hate. 

8.  Come  one,  come  all. 

XXXYIII.  ch,  as  in  church. 

choose,  chaste,  chat,  cneek, 

cheese,  cheer,  cheat,  cheap, 

chide,  cherish,  choice,        child, 

chief,  chess,  cherub,       chick. 

1.  Children  choose  trifling  toys. 

2.  Chaucer's  poetry  charmed  the  chief. 


5 . — Continuants, 

far, 

fane, 

favor, 

feed, 

fenny, 

fetter, 

finger, 

finical. 

ARTICULATION.  39 

3.  Charge,  Chester  !  charge  ! 

4.  Change  cannot  change  thee. 

5.  Cheery,  changeless,  chieftainless. 

6.  Chaplets  of  chainless  charity  are  for  thee. 
7    Chalice  of  childlike  cheerfulness  is  thine. 
8.  Charity  suffereth,  and  is  kind. 

Exercises  on  Aspirates.- 
XXXIX.  f,  as  in  fame, 
fast,  fate, 

fatal,  fearful, 

felon,  fellow, 

friend,  filcher, 

1.  Fast  bind,  fast  find. 

2.  Fasting  he  went  to  sleep,  and  fasting  waked. 

3.  Fast  by  the  throne  obsequious  Fame  resides. 

4.  Father,  from  above  bend  down  thine  ear. 

5.  Fortune  favors  the  brave. 

6.  False  face  must  hide  what  the  false  heart  doth 
know. 

^,  Firm  in  his  faith  he  falters  not. 
8.  First  in  war,  first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts 
of  his  countrymen. 

XL.  th,  as  in  think. 

thick,  thin,  through,  thanks, 

thought,     thrust,      .thong,  thousand, 

breath,        hath,         birth,  death. 

1.  Three  thousand  thistles  were  thrust  through  his 
thumb. 

2.  Thanks  to  the  thoughtful  giver. 

3.  Thick  and  thicker  fell  the  hail. 

4.  Through  the  thronged  crowd  he  thrust  his  way, 

5.  Thrust  the  thorn  into  the  flesh. 


4^  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

6.  Three  thousand  soldiers  thoughtlessly  threw  them- 
selves away, 

7.  Think  thoughtfully  three  times- 

XLI.  s,  as  in  sound. 

sing,  sour,  sight,  south, 

sigh,  soon,  stop,  safe, 

song,  suns,  systems,         strand. 

1.  Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  every  thing. . 

2.  Star  after  star  from  heaven's  high  arch  shall  rush. 

3.  Send  us  the  spirit  of  the  Son. 

4.  See  the  stars  from  heaven  falling. 

5.  Soldiers,  sailors,  seamen,  all  were  lost. 

6.  Suns  sink  on  suns,  and  systems  systems  crush. 
Y.  See  sinners  in  the  Gospel  glass. 

8.  Softly,  slowly  see  the  sun  arise. 

XLII.  sh,  as  in  shame. 

shun,  show,  shear,  shove, 

shout,  sham,  shroud,  shelf, 

shine,  ship,  shore,  shrina 

1.  Shakspeare,  Shelley  and  Sheridan. 

2.  She  sang  the  song  of  the  shirt. 

3.  Ships,  sailorless,  lay  rotting  on  the  sea. 

4.  Shout,  shout  aloud  for  joy ! 

5.  Shrines  shall  guard  the  sacred  dust. 

6.  So  shalt  thou  rest  secure. 

7.  Shroud  my  shame,  night's  gathering  darkness, 

8.  She  then  shall  dress  a  sweeter  sod. 


XLIII.  h,  as  in  hope. 

hold,              liand. 

hard. 

harp, 

head,              help. 

half. 

hart, 

harsh,            herds, 

hero, 

hermit 

AETICULATION  41 

1.  How  heavy  the  hunter's  tread. 

2.  His  horsemen  hard  behind  us  ride. 
8.  Heroes  have  hearts  for  noble  deeds. 

4.  How  sweet  to   my  heart   are  the  scenes   of  my 
childhood 

5.  Hail,  holy  light. 

6    How  high  the  heavens  appear ! 

7.  He  heaved  a  huge  stone  up  the  hill. 

8.  Hark !  hark  !  for  bread  my  children  cry. 

XLIV.  wh,  as  in  what. 

when,  whip,  where,  whet, 

wheel,  wheat,  whine,  white, 

whips,  whence,        what,  whirl. 

1.  "Whence  and  what  art  thou  ? 

2.  What  whim  led  Whitney  to   invent  the  cotton 

gin  ? 

3.  Whither,  O  whither  shall  I  fly  ! 

4.  What  white- winged  sail  is  that  ? 

5.  Why  will  kings  forget  that  they  are  men ! 

6.  Whither  when  they  came  they  fell  at  words. 

7.  Whither  away  so  fast  ? 

8.  Whisper  softly  in  the  assembly. 

Initial  Combinations. 

1.  Br.      brick,   bread,   bran,    brought,    brush,    breeze, 

broom. 

2.  Bl.      bloom,  blur,  blaze,  blight,  blood,  blow,  blue. 

3.  Dr.     drill,  dread,  dram,  dross,  drum,  dream,  droll. 

4.  Dw.    dwell,  dwarf,  dwindle. 

5.  Fl.      fling,  fled,  flat,  flood,  flee,  flare,  flaw. 
0.  Fr.      froze,  fruit,  frame,  fry,  from,  frieze. 

7    GL      glib,  glen,  glad,  gloss,  glut,  glean,  glare. 


42  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

8.  Gr.     grasp,  graz6,  grind,  growl,  grow,  grooin. 

9.  Kl.      click,  clef,  clam,  clot,  cluck,  clean,  claw. 

10.  Kr.     crane,  crime,  crown,  crow,  crude,  cram. 

11.  Kw.    quick,  quench,  quack,  queer,  quart,  quirk. 
.12.  Ku.     cue,  cube,  cute,  cure,  curate. 

13.  Pr.      prim,    priest,    prong,    prayer,    praise,    prime. 

proud. 

14.  PI.      plat,  plot,  plush,  please,  play,  ply,  plow. 

15.  Sp.      spin,    spend,    span,   spar,    spur,   spear,   spare, 

spawn. 

16.  Spr.    spring,  spread,   sprat,  sprung,   spree,   sprawl. 

spray. 

17.  Spl.  split,  splash,  spleen,  splice,  splint. 

18.  Sph.  sphere,  sphinx,  spheric,  spherule. 

19.  St.  stick,  stem,  stand,  star,  stood,  stun,  steel. 

20.  Str.  straw,  stray,  strive,  strow,  strong,  strength. 

21.  Sn.  snip,  snag,  snarl,  snub,  sneeze,  snores,  snail. 

22.  Sm.  smut,    smear,    small,    smile,    smote,    smooth, 

smell. 

23.  SI.       slip,    slept,    slang,    sloth,   slung,    sleep,    slur, 

slay. 

24.  Sk.     skip,    scan,    scot,    scar,    scaled,    score,    scale, 

sky. 

25.  Ski.     Sclave,  sclerotic. 

26.  Skr.    scrip,    scrap,    scrub,    scream,    scrawl,    scribe, 

screw. 

27.  Skw.  squib,  square,  squash,  squat,  squeak,  squall. 

28.  Shr.    shrimp,  shrug,  shrill,  shrive,  shroud,  shrew. 

29.  Tr.      trill,  tread,  trash,  trot,  trust,  tree,  train,  try* 

30.  Tw.    twinge,  twang,  tweed,  twain,  twine,  tweak, 

31.  Thr.    thrill,  thread,  throb,  thrush,  three,  thrice. 


ARTICULATION.  43 

Terminal  Combinations. 

COMBINATIONS.  EXAMPLES. 

Bd,  hdsL  Fro-b'd'st,    hlsib-b'd'st,   rohb'd'st, 

ov-b^d. 
bly  hist  bid,  bldst,  biz,    trovL-ble,  tron-brst,  troU'bVd,  trou- 

brdst,  trou-bles. 
bz.  m-bs^  na-&5,  pro-^es,  Xri-bes,  sta-^^, 

cwc-bs. 
bst,  fib-5'5^,  stub-5'sif,  rob-5'5^5  ^dh-b'^st, 

YO-b^St, 

dl,  dlst,  did,  didst,  dlz.  han-cZ/e,  hSiVi-dVst,  \i2iXi-dVd,  han- 

dVdst,  \\2^n-dles, 
dn,    dnz,    dnst,    dnd,  har-den,  har-de/i5,  har-d'^n'st,  har- 

dndst.  d'^n^d,  hsLY-d^n^dst. 

dz,  fsi-des,     hi-des,     dee-ds,     los^- ds, 

hroo-ds,  hee-ds. 
dst,  mi-dst,  hred-d^st,  di-dst,  Gonl-d'^st, 

hsi-d^st,  lo2i-d^st 
dih,  dths.       .  wi-dth,\)Ye2i'dth,'bvesi-dths,wi'dths. 

gd,  gdst,  heg-g^d,  brag-^W,  hrag-g^dst,  beg- 

g'd'st. 
gly  gist,  gld,  gldst,  glz.    msin-gle,  man-grst,  msmgrd,  man- 

gVdst,  msin-gles. 
gz.  di-gs,  dre-gs,  wa-gs,  lo-gs,  hu-gs, 

eg-gs,  ho-gs, 
gsU  Isig-g^st,  wsig-g^st,   dog-g^st,   dug- 

g'sL 
jd,  brid-^W,         hed-^W,        dred-^W, 

ind-g'd. 
fl,flst,fld,fldst,flz,      Xxi'fle,    tn-jVst,    tn-jVd,    XA-jVdst^ 

ti'i-Jles, 
A/^^i/^^^'  swi/jf,     wa-/^,     wsL-fts,     wsL-ft^st, 

qu.2if-/fst. 


4:4  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

COMBINATIONS.  EXAMPLES. 

fs,  fst.  snu;/5,  lau-^A5,  lau-^A's^,  ^tu^-f^st, 

fth,  fths.  ^-ft/i,  fi-fths. 

si,  slsty  ski,  sldst,  slz,     ne-stle,  ne-strst,  ne-stPd,  ne-strdsi, 

ne-stles. 


s/c,  sJct,  sJcs,  sJcst, 

ma-s^,  m^i-s/c^d,  msi-sks,  msi-sFst, 

sp,  S2^t,  sps. 

rsi-sp,  TSi-sp'^d,  YSi-sps,  clsi-sps. 

St,  sts. 

^-st,  hn-st,  hU'Sts,  costs. 

cht. 

hit-ch^d,        iQt-cNd,        sket-c/i'4 

hat-cAW. 

lb,  Ibd,  Ibz, 

bu-^^,  hvi-Wd,  hu-lbs. 

Id,  Idz,  Idst. 

^\4ed,     ho-ld,     lao-lds,     \io-ld'^st. 

^Ud'st. 

Ij,  Ijd. 

hi-lge,  hu-lge,  hn-lg^d,  bi-Z^W. 

Im,  Imd,  Imz, 

whe-lm,  whe-lm'^d,  whe-lms. 

In, 

&wol-len,  idl-len,  sto-len. 

Iv,  Ivd,  Ivz, 

de-lve,    she-lve,   she-lv^d,  she-lves, 

de-lv^d,  de-lves. 

Iz. 

^l-ls,   tel-ls,  hal-ls,  hul-ls,  tol-ls. 

Gsii-ls, 

Ik,  Iks,  Ikt,  Ikts, 

e-lk,  si-Ik,  si-Iks,  m.u-lct,  mu-lcts. 

Ip,  Ipt,  Ips,  Ipst, 

])u-lp,      he-lp,      he-lp'^d,      he-lps. 

he-lp^st. 

It,  Us,  Itst. 

hi-lt,  h2i-lt,  hsi-lts,  hsi-lt^st,   shaV^, 

shsi-lfst. 

If,  Ifs. 

de-?/,  gu-lf,  gu-lfs,  se-lf. 

Is,  1st. 

fsi-lse,  M-Pst,  dwel-rst,  csd-Vst, 

Ith,  Uhs. 

ti-lth,  hea-lth,  hesi-lths,  wea-lth. 

Ich,  Icht, 

Mch,  McKd, 

md,  mdsL 

dim-mW,  ento-wi^'J,  ento-mSWs?, 

hem-mW. 

mz. 

\2rmbs,     to-mbs,     he-ms,    su-ms, 

ha-?7Z5. 

ARTICULATIOJS".  45 

COMBINATIONS.  EXAMPLES., 

mp,  mps^  mpt^  mpts,     i-mp,  i-^2ps,  Sitte-mpt,  Sutte-mpts. 

mf,  mfs,  ly-mph^  uj-mph^  nj-mphs, 

nist,  dim-m'sif,    ento-wz^'s^,     hem-m's^, 

nd,  ndzy  ndst,  ^-nd,     se-nd,     se-nds,     se-nd^st^ 

^-nd^st. 
nj^  njd»  &i-nge,  rei-nge,  rsL-ng^dy  ^i-ng'^d. 

nz,  pe-?25,  ^-ns,  fsi-ns,  tu-ns,  quee-ns, 

ngdy  ngdsty  ngz^  ngth^  hsi-ng^d,         hsi-ng^dst,        hsi-ngs^ 

ngths,  stve-ngth,  stre-ngths. 

nk,  nkt^  nks^  nJcst,         vfi-nJc^  ^i-nlc^d^   y^i-nJcs^  ^i-nJc'st^ 

dLvi'7iJc*  St. 
nt^  nts^  ntst,  W2i-7it,  wsi-nts^  wsi-7ifst,  he-9ifst, 

nSy  nst,  ^e-nce,    wi-nc6,    wi-?2cW,    dab-nce, 

da-iic'st. 
nchj  ncht,  que-nch,         ■Qi-7ich,         ^\-7ich''dy 

qae'7ich'^d. 
rb,    rbstj    rbd,    rbdst,  ba-r5,  hsi-rb^st,  ha-rb^d,  hsi-rb^dst^ 

rbz.  'bsi-rbs, 

rd^  rdst,  rdz,  fur-rW,  hea-rd,  he2i-rd^st^  ha-rdSy 

csi-rds, 
rg,  rgz,  hu-rgh,  hu-rghs. 

rj,  rjd.  me-rge,  ^-^ge,  n-rg\I,  me-rg^d, 

rl,  rlst,  rid,  rlds%  I'lz,     hu-rl,   \m-rVst,   hu-rVd,    \i\x.-rVdsty 

hn-rls. 
rr)7,  rmst,  rmc?,  r7nds%  wa-r^-Tz,         wsi-rTn^st,        wa-rTn^d, 
rmz,  rmth,  ^2i-r7n'' dst,  wsi'rr)2s,  wsL-r7nt/L 

r7iy   r7ist,  r7id,  r72dst,  bu-r;2,  hu-r7i*st,  bu-r/iW,  hu-rn^Ist, 

r7ity  rnz.  hu-rnt,  h\x-7ms. 

rVy    rvsty    rvd^    rvdst,  cu-rve^  cu-rv^st,  cn-rv'^d,  cu-rv^dst, 

Tvz,  QVi-rves, 

rz.  fi-rs,   sta-r5,   wa-7*5,    besL-rs^  o-res^ 

^-res. 


46  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

COMBINATIONS.  EXAMPLES. 

rh^  rks^  rkst^  rJc%  rJctst,  ha-r^,    hsi-rks,    hsi-rk'^st,    Im-rFd^ 

hsi-rk'^dst. 
rp,  rps,  rpst,  rpt,  rptst,  ha-rp,    ha-rp5,    ha-rp's^,    ha-r^W, 

ha-rp^dst, 
rty  rts^  rtst,  spi-r^,  hu-rt,  hn-rts^  hn-rfst,  spi-r^ 

rfy  rft,  rfs.  sca-r/*,  tu-r/*,  tu-rf'd,  tu-r/^,  sca-r/s. 

rs,  rst,  rsts^  rstst,  cu-rsey    hea-rse,     hu-rst^    hu-rsts, 

cu-rsW,  cu-rs^dst. 
rthy  rths.  wor-thy  hea-r^A,  hesL-rths^  mi-r^A, 

hi-rths, 
rsh,  msi-rshy  ha-rsA. 

rchy  rcht,  sea-rcA,  sea-rcAW,  lu-rcA,  lu-rcAW. 

vJ,  vdst,  liVc?,  li-?;W5^,  mo-?;W,  mo-'yWs^. 

vly  vlst,  vldj  vldsty  viz.  dri-v7,  diVi-v^V st^  dri-vTc?,  dri-^'Z'cZ^^, 

vrty  vnZy  vnth,  hea-?;'^^,  hea-^;'^5,  ele-'y'n^A,  dri-'y'Ti. 

vs.  el-v65,     dei-^)e5,     li-veSy     rao-veSy 

lea'-yg^,  do-?;6s, 
vsj5.  moVs^,  li'-y'^i^,  del-y'5^,  ra-'y'^i?. 

gc?.  plea-sec?,  ama-sW,  rai-sec?,  clo-sec?. 

2?,  zlsty  zldy  zldsty  zlz.     mMz-zUy  vuMz-zPsty  raviZ'zrdy  muz- 

zVdsty  mMz-zles, 
zniy  zmz,  cha-5m,  spa-sm,  spa-sms,  cha-sms. 

g^,    sns^,   snc?,    271(^5^,  pri-50?2,  impri-so^z'sj?,  impri-so?2W, 

S72S.  impri-5(97iV7s^,  ^vi-sons, 

thdy  thZy  thst,  wrea.-Wdy  wresi-ths^  wrea-^A'5^. 

My  klsty  Tddy  Jcldsty  Jclz.  tvxxC'Mey  trviQ-JcV sty  truc-^ZW,  truo- 

TcVdsty  irvLQ-Jcles, 
huy  knst^  Jcndy  Jcndsty  blac-^^e/i,   hld^Q-ken'st^    }A2iQr7cen^d. 

hnz,  \i\2,Q>-herC dsty  blac-^e/i5. 

kty  kt8,  pic-Z;W,  2i-cty  a-ctSy  roc-Z;W,  kio-k^d. 

Jc8.  JixO'CkSy  TSL-cksy  ^i'cksy  de-cks. 


ARTICULATION.  4-7 

COMBINATIONS.  EXAMPLES. 

pl^  plst,  pld,  pldst,  pl-uck,  rip-pie^   ri-p-pfst,   ri^-pPd^ 

plz,  riip-prdst^  ryp-pks. 

pt,  pts.  c\iip-ped,  crj'pt^  cr j-pts,  straip-pedi 

ps,  pst,  YO-peSy  cli-ps^  clip-^'s^,  rip-ped'st, 

pth^pths.  de-pth^  de-pths. 

il^  tlsty  tidy  tldsty  tlz.  set  tie,  set-trst,  ^et-tPdy  set-trdst^ 

set-ties, 

ts^  tst,  mt^ts,  pe-^5,  pe-«'5^,  ro-tSy  rot-f^U 


48  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTIOX 


CHAPTER  n. 

RESPIRATION. 

The  ability  to  speak  well  is  in  a  great  degree  dependent 
on  appropriate  respiration.  Without  a  sufficient  supply 
of  breath  the  vocal  organs  cannot  perform  their  func- 
tions properly. 

Ignorance  of  the  right  method  of  using  the  lungs  and 
the  larynx  in  reading  and  speaking  has  produced  more 
cases  of  pulmonary  consumption  than  all  other  causes 
combined. 

Exercises  for  acquiring  control  of  these  organs  should, 
then,  first  claim  the  attention  of  the  student  of  Elocution. 

SECTION  J. 
POSITION. 

Preparatory  to  every  vocal  exercise  the  pupil  should 
place  the  body  in  a  perfectly  erect  and  easy  position, 
the  chest  fully  projected,  the  shoulders  thrown  backward 
and  downward,  the  head  erect,  the  body  supported  on 
the  left  foot,  the  right  foot  placed  a  little  in  advance  of 
the  left,  and  forming  with  it  an  angle  of  seventy-five  de- 
grees, the  hands  hanging  naturally  by  the  side. 

SECTION  II. 
I.   Exercise  in  Breathing. 

Inhale  very  slowly  until  the  lungs  are  inflated  to  their 
utmost  capacity,  then,  after  retaining  the  breath  for  a 
moment,  as  slowly  exhale. 


RESPIRATION.  49 

Repeat  this  exercise  at  least  a  dozen  times.  In  the 
act  of  inhalation  carefully  avoid  a  harsh,  aspirate  sound, 
as  no  habit  is  more  injurious  to  the  vocal  organs. 

II.   Exercise  in  Effusive  Yocal  BREATHiifG. 

Inflate  the  lungs  as  before,  then  exhale  in  a  prolonged 
sound  of  the  letter  A. 

In  the  exhalation  give  out  only  sufficient  breath  to 
keep  the  sound  audible.  Continue  each  exercise  as  long 
as  you  can  sustain  the  breath,  and  repeat  at  least  a  dozen 
times. 

This  exercise  is  called  Effusive  Breathing,  because  the 
breath  is  gently  sent  forth  from  the  organs. 

III.  Exercise  in  Expulsive  Yocal  Breathing. 

Inhale  the  breath  rapidly  but  quietly,  and  emit  it 
suddenly  and  forcibly  in  the  sound  of  the  letter  h.  In 
this  exercise  the  breath  is  expelled  from  the  organs 
forcibly,  and  it  is  known  as  expulsive  breathing. 

Repeat  a  number  of  times. 

lY.  Exercise  in  Explosive  Yocal  Breathing. 

Draw  in  the  breath  very  quickly,  and  send  it  forth 
abruptly  and  violently  from  the  organs  in  the  sound  of 
the  letter  h. 

This  exercise  is  called  explosive  breathing  because 
the  breath  is  violently  and  abruptly  emitted  from  the 
organs. 

Repeat  at  least  a  dozen  times. 


50  SCIEJN-CE  OF  ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER  ni. 

YOICB. 

VoiOB  IS  sound  produced  by  the  passage  of  the  air 
through  the  larynx  and  cavities  of  the  mouth  and  nose. 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  the  present  work  to  give  a 
detailed  description  of  the  mechanical  movements  of 
the  organs,  and  the  action  of  the  air  upon  them  in 
the  production  of  vocal  sound,  nor  is  such  a  knowledge 
necessary  to  excellence  in  vocal  expression.  The  stu- 
dent who  desires  to  investigate  this  subject  will  find  it 
fully  discussed  in  works  upon  physiology. 

An  analysis  of  the  attributes  and  accidents  of  voice, 
and  their  effect  on  expression,  is  more  properly  the  work 
of  the  student  of  elocution,  and  to  this  his  attention  is 
invited. 

SECTION  I. 

ATTRIBUTES    OF   VOICE. 

Having  acquired  by  the  preceding  exercises  control 
of  the  organs  of  articulation  and  respiration,  attention  is 
now  directed  to  those  attributes  of  voice  which  give 
expression  to  thought  and  feeling  irresjDective  of  articu- 
late utterance. 

An  analysis  of  the  human  voice  exhibits  six  essential 
elements,  namely :  Form,  Quality,  Force,  Stress,  Pitch, 
and  Movement.  These  are  called  attributes,  because  in 
the  utterance  of  every  sentence  each  of  these  elements 
is  found. 


ATTRIBUTES   OF  VOICE.  51 

We  may  read  or  speak  without  employing  Quantity, 
long  or  short,  Inflection,  rising  or  falling,  Waves,  up- 
ward or  downward.  Cadence,  Pauses,  Emphasis,  Climax, 
or  Grouping  ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  utter  a  sentence 
without  exhibiting  Form,  either  eflusive,  expulsive,  or 
explosive,  Quality,  pure  or  impure.  Force,  in  some 
degree.  Stress,  of  some  kind.  Pitch — some  place  upon 
the  musical  scale — and  Movement  of  some  rate. 

And  it  is  by  the  various  combinations  of  these  attri 
butes  that  we  give  appropriate  expression  to  the  differ 
ent  forms  of  thought  and  emotion. 

A  knowledge,  then,  of  their  effect  on  utterance,  and  the 
ability  to  give  at  pleasure  any  desired  combination,  is 
indispensable  to  excellence  in  reading  and  speaking.  To 
this  end  it  will  be  necessary  to  consider  each  attribute 
separately,  determine  its  characteristic  effect  on  expres- 
sion, and  present  exercises  by  which  control  of  it  may  be 
acquired. 

SECTION  II. 

FORM    OF   VOICE. 

Form  of  voice  is  the  manner  in  which  the  sound  is 
sent  forth  from  the  vocal  organs. 

This  must  be  Effusive,  Expulsive,  or  Explosive,  as 
every  sound,  whether  produced  by  the  vocal  organs  or 
by  any  other  means,  must  be  in  one  of  these  forms. 

SECTION  in. 

EFFUSIVE    FORM. 

The  Ejffusive  is  that  form  of  voice  in  which  the  sound 
issues  from  the  organs  in  a  tranquil  manner,  without 
abruptness  either  in  the  beginning  or  ending. 

The  breath  is  not  sent  forth  by  any  forcible  effort, 
but  is  gently  effused  into  the  surrounding  air. 


52  .  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  form  of  voice  practice  tlie 
following  exercises  as  directed : 

Inhale  a  large  volume  of  air  before  uttering  each 
sound.  In  the  formation  of  the  sound  give  out  only 
BufBcient  breath  to  produce  the  required  tone. 

Repeat  each  of  the  elements,  continuing  the  sound  as 
long  as  you  can  sustain  the  breath. 

Effusive  Form — First  ExT^;T?r!TSB 
1.  e,  as  heard  in  eve,  mete. 


2. 

e, 

(( 

ermine,  earth. 

3. 

a. 

cc 

ale,  may. 

4. 

a, 

(( 

air,  care. 

5. 

a, 

u 

arm,  farm, 

6. 

6, 

u 

order,  form. 

7. 

5, 

u 

old,  note. 

8. 

00, 

u 

ooze,  moon. 

Repeat  each  of  the  following  words  several  times  in  a 
moderately  prolonged  tone,  being  careful  to  avoid  all 
abruptness  both  in  the  beginning  and  close  of  the 
utterance. 


Effusive  Form- 

-Second  Exercise. 

All, 

arm. 

our. 

use, 

hall, 

harm. 

oil. 

duty, 

fall. 

farm, 

vow. 

beauty, 

awful. 

calm, 

howl. 

amuse, 

pall. 

afar, 

balm. 

refuse. 

The  ejffusive  is  the  appropriate  form  of  voice  for  the 
expression  of  pathos,  solemnity,  sublimity,  grandeur, 
reverence,  adoration^  devotion,  av^e^  and  amazemerit,  of 
a  quiet  and  tranquil  character. 

The  following  selections  should  be  practiced  with 
special  reference  to  the  effusive  form. 


EFFUSIVE   FORM.  53 

Examples  :   I.  Pathos. 

[From  "  The  Death  Bed."— iZbcw?.] 

"We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night 

Her  breathing  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  breast  the  wave  of  hfe 

Kent  heaving  to  and  fro. 

II.  Solemnity. 

[From  "Gratitude."] 

When  all  thy  mercies,  0  my  God, 

My  rising  soul  surveys. 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 

In  wonder,  love,  and  praise. 

III.  Reverence  and  Adoration. 

[From  "The  Morning  Hymn  in  Paradise." — MiltonJ] 

These  are  thy  glorious  works.  Parent  of  Good, 

Almighty  1     Thine  this  universal  frame, 

Thus  wondrous  fair.     Thyself  how  wondrous  then  I 

Unspeakable  I  who  sitt'st  above  these  heavens, 

To  us  invisible,  or  dimly  seen 

Midst  these  thy  lowest  works. 

ly.  Awe  and  Amazement. 

[From  "  Macbethy—Shakspeare.'] 

Now  o'er  {he  one  half  world 
Nature  seems  dead,  and  wicked  dreams  abuse 
The  curtained  sleep ;  now  witchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate's  offerings ;  and  withered  murder, 
Alarmed  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
"Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus,  with  his  stealthy  pace, 
Toward  his  design  moves  like  a  ghost. 

The  effusive  gives  a  softness  and  smoothness  to  the 
tone,  which,  in  the  expression  of  pathos,  solemnity,  de- 
votion, and  reverence,  produces  one  of  the  most  pleasing 
effects  in  delivery,  calling  out  at  once  all  the  purer  and 


54  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION, 

nobler  feelings,  and  fitting  the  mind  for  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  higher  and  holier  scenes,  while  the  absence 
of  this  property  of  utterance  renders  the  reading  of  the 
most  sublime  passages  in  prayer  and  praise  harsh  and 
unpleasant. 

In  the  utterance  of  the  milder  forms  of  awe  and  horror 
the  effusive  gives  intensity  to  the  expression. 

SECTION  IV. 
EXPULSIVE   FORM. 

The  expulsive  is  that  form  of  voice  in  which  the  sound 
is  emitted  from  the  organs  in  an  abrupt  and  forcible 
manner. 

The  breath,  by  a  vigorous  inward  and  upward  action 
of  the  abdominal  muscles,  is  sent  forth  from  the  lungs  to 
the  vocal  organs,  where  it  is  converted  into  an  expulsive 
sound. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  form  of  voice,  great  care 
should  be  taken  while  practicing  the  exercises  to  main- 
tain a  vigorous  play  of  the  abdominal,  dorsal  and  inter- 
costal muscles,  to  keep  the  head  erect  and  the  shoulders 
well  back. 

Repeat  the  following  exercises  in  a  clear,  full,  expul- 
sive form  of  voice. 

Expulsive  Form — First  Exercise. 
1.  e,  as  heard  in  end,  ell. 


2.  a, 

add,  have. 

3.  &, 

ask,  dance. 

4.  6, 

odd,  not. 

5.  I, 

ill,  fin. 

6.  tt, 

up,  study. 

l.n, 

pull,  push. 

EXPULSIVE   FORM.  65 


Expulsive  Foem- 

-Second  Exercise. 

Add, 

on. 

air. 

end, 

eve, 

Tip, 

no, 

fair, 

orb, 

awful. 

law. 

live, 

dare, 

own. 

die. 

few, 

ice, 

send. 

fool. 

fame, 

art, 

ale, 

arm, 

isle. 

sink,  read,  heard,  swim, 

brave,  down,  this,  slave. 

The  expulsive  is  the  appropriate  form  of  voice  for  the 
utterance  of  narrative^  descriptive^  didactic^  animated^ 
argumentative^  and  impassioned  thought  as  expressed 
in  scientific  and  literary  lectures,  doctrinal  and  practical 
sermons,  senatorial,  political,  and  judicial  speeches,  and 
formal  orations.  . 

Examples:  I.  IST aeration. 

[From  "  A  Soldier's  Funeral." — J..  H.  Quint.} 

The  first  funeral  at  whicli  I  of&ciated  was  at  Harper's  Ferry,  while 
our  regiment  occupied  that  post.  There  had  been  brought  into  our 
hospital  a  soldier  of  the  Fifteenth  Pennsylvania — then  on  its  way 
home  at  the  expiration  of  its  three  months'  service — whom  that  regi- 
ment left  with  us  one  afternoon  as  they  passed  through  the  place. 
That  evening,  as  I  passed  at  a  late  hour  through  the  hospital,  I  no- 
ticed this  new  face,  and,  on  inquiry,  found  the  facts.  He  was  sick 
with  typhoid  fever — very  sick.  Little  more  than  a  boy  in  years,  he 
was  to  me,  then,  nameless,  not  one  of  ours ;  but  he  was  a  suffering 
soldier,  and  may  Grod  bless  every  one  of  such  1 

n.  Didactic. 

[From  "Industry  and  Eloquence."-— VTir^.] 

In  the  ancient  republics  of  Greece  and  Rome,  oratory  was  a  neces- 
sary branch  of  a  finished  education.  A  much  smaller  proportion  of 
the  citizens  were  educated  than  among  us,  but  of  these  a  much 
larger  number  became  orators.    No  man  could  hope  for  distinction  or 


56  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION 

influence  and  yet  slight  this  art.  The  commanders  of  their  armies 
were  orators  as  well  as  soldiers,  and  ruled  as  well  by  their  rhetorical 
as  by  their  military  skill  There  was  no  trusting  with  them,  as  with 
us,  to  a  natural  facility,  or  the  acquisition  of  an  accidental  fluency  by 
occasional  practice. 

III.  Argumentative  Oratorical. 

[From  "  Our  Duty  to  our  Country.''''— Story.] 

"We  stand  the  latest,  and,  if  we  fail,  probably  the  last,  experimen' 
•f  self-government  by  the  people.  We  have  begun  it  under  circum- 
stances of  the  most  auspicious  nature.  We  are  in  the  vigor  of  youthl 
Our  growth  has  never  been  checked  by  the  oppressions  of  tyranny; 
our  constitutions  have  never  been  enfeebled  by  the  vices  or  luxuries 
of  the  Old  World.  Such  as  we  are  we  have  been  from  the  beginning 
— simple,  hardy,  intelligent,  accustomed  to  self-government  and  to  • 
self-respect.  The  Atlantic  rolls  between  us  and  any  formidable  foe. 
Within  our  territory,  stretching  through  many  degrees  of  latitude  and 
longitude,  we'  have  the  choice  of  many  products  and  many  means  of 
independence.  The  government  is  mild,  the  press  is  free,  religion  is 
free;  knowledge  reaches,  or  may  reach,  every  home.  What  fairer 
prospect  of  success  could  be  presented  ?  What  means  more  adequate 
to  accomplish  the  sublime  end?  What  more  is  necessary  than  for 
the  people  to  preserve  what  they  have  themselves  created  ?  Already 
has  the  age  caught  the  spirit  of  our  institutions.  It  has  already 
ascended  the  Andes  and  snuffed  the  breezes  of  both  oceans ;  it  has 
infused  itself  into  the  life-blood  of  Europe,  and  warmed  the  sunny 
plains  of  France  and  the  low  lands  of  Holland;  it  has  touched  the 
philosophy  of  Germany  and  the  North,  and,  moving  onward  to  the 
South,  has  opened  to  G-reece  the  lessons  of  her  better  days.  Can  it 
be  that  America,  under  such  circumstances,  can  betray  herself?  Can 
it  be  that  she  is  to  be  added  to  the  catalogue  of  republics,  the  in- 
scription upon  whose  ruins  is,  They  were,  but  they  are  not?  Forbid 
it,  my  countrymen  1     Forbid  it,  Heaven  1 

lY.  Impassioned. 

[From  "  Eloquence  of  James  Otis." — Mrs.  Oliilds.'] 

The  flame  of  liberty  is  extinguished  in  Greece  and  Home,  but  the 
light  of  its  glowing  embers  is  still  bright  and  strong  on  the  shores  of 
America.  Actuated  by  its  sacred  influence,  we  will  resist  unto  death ; 
but  we  will  not  countenance  anarchy  and  misrule.  The  wrongs  that  a 
desperate  community  have  heaped  upon  their  enemies  shall  be  amply 


EXPLOSIVE    FORM.  57 

and  speedily  repaired.  Still  it  may  be  well  for  some  proud  men  to 
re-member  that  a  fire  is  lighted  in  these  colonies  which  one  breath  of 
their  king  may  kindle  into  such  a  flame  that  the  blood  of  all  England 
cannot  extinguish  it. 

The  expulsive  form  gives  energy,  life,  and  spirit  to 
all  direct  and  forcible  speaking.  Divested  of  this  form 
of  voice  the  manly  and  powerful  eloquence  of  Demos- 
thenes, Chatham,  Webster,  and  Clay,  would  become 
ridiculous  and  contemptible. 

No  exercise  is  more  beneficial  for  strengthening  and 
developing  the  voice  than  practice  on  the  expulsive  form. 

SECTION  V. 
EXPLOSIVE    FORM. 

'The  explosive  is  that  form  of  voice  in  which  the  sound 
bursts  forth  instantaneously  from  the  organs. 

It  resembles  in  suddenness  the  crack  of  a  pistol  or  the 
report  of  a  rifle. 

"  This  form  of  voice  proceeds  from  a  violent  and 
abrupt  exertion  of  the  abdominal  muscles  acting  on  the 
diaphragm,  and  thus  discharging  a  large  volume  of  air 
previously  inhaled.  The  breath  in  this  process  is,  as  it 
were,  dashed  against  the  glottis  or  lips  of  the  larynx, 
causing  a  loud  and  instantaneous  explosion." 

"  In  the  act  of  '  explosion,'  the  chink  of  the  glottis  is 
for  a  moment  closed,  and  resistance  at  first  offered  to  the 
escape  of  the  breath  by  a  firm  compression  of  the  lips  of 
the  larynx  and  downward  pressure  of  the  epiglottis. 

*'After  this  instant  pressure  and  resistance,  follows  the 
explosion,  caused  by  the  appulsive  act  of  the  abdominal 
muscles  and  diaphragm,  propelling  the  breath  with  pow- 
erful and  irresistible  volume  on  the  glottis  and  epiglottis, 
which  at  length  give  way  and  suffer  the  breath  to  escape 


58  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

with  a  loud  and  sudden  report  of  a  purely  explosive 
character." 

Practice  the  following  elements  and  words  with  all 
the  force  and  abruptness  you  can  command.  Inflate  the 
lungs  before  each  effort,  and  then  expel  the  breath  vio- 
lently as  directed  above. 

In  connection  with  these  exercises  practice  the  me- 
chanical act  of  coughing. 

Explosive  Foem — Fiest  Exeeoise. 
1.  i,  as  heard  in  it,  ill. 


2.  e, 

'          let,  met. 

3.  a,          ' 

'           add,  lad. 

4.  a, 

'          ask,  task. 

5.  0,          ' 

'           odd,  clod. 

6.  u, 

'           pull,  full. 

7.  ii,          ' 

'           up,  cup. 

Explosive  Foem 

: — Second  Exeecise. 

In,                 art. 

on,                 ebb, 

air,                up. 

all,                 let. 

back,             hacked 

,          trip,               skip. 

down,            flit. 

stick,              stuck. 

mock,             old. 

lie,                 down. 

The  explosive  is  the  appropriate  form  for  the  expres- 
sion of  Joy,  gladness^  intense  passion^  as  anger^  scorn^ 
hatred^  revenge^  the  sudden  cry  of  terror  and  alarms  and 
the  shout  of  courage  and  defiance. 

Examples  :  I.  Ecstatic  Joi  , 
Joy,  joy  1  shout  aloud  for  joy ! 


EXPLOSIVE   FORM.  59 

II.  Anger  and  Defiance. 

[From  "  The  Parting  of  Marmion  and  Douglas." — Scott,} 

And  if  thou  said'st  I  am  not  peer 
To  any  lord  in  Scotland  here, 
Lowland  or  highland,  far  or  near, 
Lord  Angus,  thou  hast  lied. 

III.  Scorn. 

[From  "  Seminole's  Defiance." — Patten.] 

I  loathe  you  with  my  bosom ; 

I  scorn  you  with  mine  eye ; 
I'll  taunt  you  with  my  latest  breath, 

And  fight  you  till  I  die. 

ly.  Courage. 

[From  "  Warren's  Address." — Pierponf] 

Stand !  the  ground's  your  own,  my  braves : 
Will  ye  give  it  up  to  slaves  ? 
Wni  ye  look  for  greener  graves  ? 

Hope  ye  mercy  still  ? 
"What's  the  mercy  despots  feel  ? 
Hear  it  in  that  battle-peal ! 
Read  it  on  yon  bristling  steel  I 

Ask  it,  ye  who  will. 

No  exercise  is  so  effectual  for  imparting  energy  to  the 
tone  or  strengthening  weak  organs  as  practice  on  the 
explosive  form  of  voice.  Combined  with  the  expulsive, 
in  argumentative  discourse,  it  gives  life  and  energy  to 
the  utterance. 

Murdoch  and  Russell  in  their  excellent  work,  "  Yocal 
Culture,"  say :  "  This  form  of  the  human  voice  (the  ex- 
plosive) is  one  of  the  most  impressive  in  its  effects.  By 
a  law  of  our  constitution  it  acts  with  an  instanta- 
neous shock  on  the  sympathetic  nerve,  and  rouses  the 


60  SCIENCE  OF  elocutio:n'. 

sensibility  of  the  whole  frame ;  it  summons  to  instant 
action  all  the  senses,  and  in  the  thrill  which  it  sends 
from  nerve  to  brain  we  feel  its  awakening  and  inciting 
power  over  the  mind." 

With  the  rapidity  of  lightning  it  penetrates  every 
faculty  and  sets  it  instinctively  on  the  alert. 

It  seems  designed  by  nature  as  the  note  of  alarm  to 
the  citadel  of  the  soul. 

SECTION  VI. 
QUALITY    OF    VOICE. 

Quality  of  voice  is  the  purity  or  impurity  of  the  tone. 
The  different  qualities  are,  Pure  Tone,  Orotund,  Aspi- 
rate, Pectoral,  Guttural,  Oral  and  Nasal. 

Of  these  the  first  two  are  the  appropriate  qualities  for 
the  expression  of  unimpassioned  forms  of  thought  and 
the  higher  and  nobler  feelings  and  emotions. 

The  Aspirate,  Pectoral  and  Guttural  are  the  natural 
language  of  the  malignant  feelings  and  passions.  Even 
the  lower  animals  express  their  feelings  of  hate,  anger, 
rage  in  the  aspirate,  pectoral  and  guttural  qualities,  as 
heard  in  the  hissing  of  the  serpent,  the  low  pectoral 
growl  of  the  wolf,  and  the  deep  guttural  roar  of  the 
tiger. 

In  continuous,  unimpassioned  discourse  these  impure 
qualities  are  often  employed  to  give  emphasis  to  certain 
words  and  phrases. 

The  Nasal  and  Oral  are  used  chiefly  in  personation, 
mimicry  and  burlesque. 

Each  of  these  qualities  admit  of  the  three  forms  al« 
ready  presented,  and  will  be  discussed  in  their  relations 
to  the  Effusive,  Expulsive  and  Explosive. 


PURE  TONE,  61 

SECTION  VII. 
PURE     TONE. 

Pure  tone  is  that  quality  of  voice  in  which  all  the 
breath  is  converted  into  a  clear,  round,  smooth,  musical 
sound,  with  the  resonance  in  the  back  part  of  the  roof 
of  the  mouth.  It  is  free  from  all  aspirate,  oral,  nasal,  or 
other  impure  qualities. 

Owing  to  our  defective  system  of  education  this 
quality  of  voice,  so  peculiar  to  childhood,  is  rarely  pos- 
sessed in  more  mature  acre. 

The  restraining  influences  of  the  school-room  tend 
directly  to  destroy  all  the  natural  purity  and  sweetness 
of  the  voice. 

To  restore  this  natural  quality,  practice  daily  the  fol- 
lowing exercises  with  the  strictest  attention  to  the  purity 
of  the  tone. 

That  the  highest  advantage  may  be  derived  from 
these  exercises,  special  regard  should  be  given  to  the 
quality. 

Repeat  a  number  of  times  each  of  the  following  ele- 
ments in  the  effusive  form  with  the  utmost  purity  of 
tone.  It  will  be  noticed  that  the  object  of  the  exercise 
on  page  52  was  to  cultivate  form  of  voice  w^ithout 
reference  to  quality  or  other  attributes.  The  special 
object  of  this  exercise  is  to  cultivate  purity  of  tone, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  retain  and  strengthen  what 
was  gained  by  the  exercises  under  form.  It  should  be 
constantly  borne  in  mind  that,  in  connection  with  each 
additional  exercise,  attention  should  be  given  to  all  the 
previous  exercises,  so  that  when  the  exercises  in  Move- 
ment of  Voice  are  presented,  (the  last  exercises  under 
the  attributes,)  they  will  be  not  only  exercises  in  Move- 


62  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

ment,  but  also  in  Form,   Quality,  Force,  Stress,  and 
Pitch. 


Pure  Tone,  Efpusiye  Form — First  Exercise, 

1.  e,  as 

heard 

in  me,  see. 

2.  a. 

(C 

ale,  pale. 

3.  k, 

u 

air,  pare. 

4.  a, 

u 

father,  arm. 

5.  a, 

cc 

all,  talk. 

6.  0, 

(( 

no,  old. 

7.  00, 

u 

moon,  food. 

Repeat  the  words  as  directed  above,  only  with  less 
prolongation 

Pure  Tone,  Effusiye  Form — Second  Exerci&e. 

All,  fall,  breathe,  softly, 

soldiers,  peacefully,  brother,  mother, 

gently,  wondrous,  bow,  heaven, 

beauteous,  brow,  sleep,  pall. 

Pure  tone,  in  the  effusive  form,  is  the  appropriate 
quality  of  voice  for  the  utterance  of  pathetic,  solemn^ 
serious  and  tranquil  thought,  not  mingled  with  grandeur 
and  sublimity,  where  the  purpose  is  to  awaken  the  feel* 
ings  rather  than  to  enlighten  the  mind. 

Examples  :  I.  Solem:n'ity. 

Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  An  Evening  Eevery."— PAe&e  Carp.^ 

One  sweetly  solemn  thought 

Comes  to  me  o'er  and. o'er; 
I'm  nearer  my  home  to-day 

Than  ever  IVe  been  before. 


PURE  TONE,  EFFUSIVE  FORM.        63 

JX    Serious   Thought. 

Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form, 

There  is  often  sadness  in  the  tone, 

And  a  moisture  in  the  eye, 
And  a  trembhng  sorrow  in  the  voice, 

"When  we  bid  a  last  good-bye ; 
But  sadder  far  than  this,  I  ween, 

0,  sadder  far  than  all, 
Is  the  heart-throb  with  which  we  strain 

To  catch  the  last  footfall. — Anon. 

III.     TuAiq^QUILLITT. 

Fure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 

My  soul  to-day 

Is  far  away. 
Sailing  the  Yesuvian  Bay ; 

My  winged  boat, 

A  bird  afloat, 
Swims  round  the  purple  peaks  remote. — T.  B.  Read, 


Repeat  the  following  elements  and  words  a  number 
ot  times  in  the  Expulsive  Form,  Pure  Tone,  with  the 
closest  attention  to  the  quality  of  voice  : 

Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Foem — Fiest  Exeecise. 
1.  6,  as  heard  in  earth,  ermine. 


2. 

a, 

(( 

aim,  age. 

3. 

a, 

cc 

add,  lad. 

4. 

s, 

(( 

ell,  end. 

5. 

8, 

a 

odd,  sod. 

6. 

tt, 

u 

up,  cup. 

Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form — Second  Exercise. 
Arm,  put,  bet,  let, 

fit,  met,  up,  on, 

back,  down,  live,  victoiy, 

last>  again,  friend,  think. 


vi  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Pure  tone,  ill  the  expulsive  form,  is  the  appropriate 
quality  of  voice  tor  the  delivery  of  ^larrative^  descriptive^ 
and  didactic  thought^  in  which  the  purpose  of  the  speaker 
is  more  to  enlighten  the  mind  than  to  awaken  the  feeU 
ings  or  rouse  the  passions. 

Examples  :   I.  Naekative,  Descriptive. 

Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Blind  Preacher."—  Wirt.] 

It  was  one  Sunday,  as  I  traveled  through  the  County  of  Orange, 
that  my  eye  was  caught  by  a  cluster  of  horsjs  tied  near  a  ruinous 
old  wooden  house  in  the  forest,  not  far  from  the  roadside.  Having 
frequently  seen  such  objects  before  in  traveling  through  these  States, 
I  had  no  difficulty  ui  understanding  that  this  was  a  place  of  religious 
worship. 

Devotion  alone  should  have  stopped  me  to  join  in  the  duties  of  the 
congregation,  but  I  must  confess  that  curiosity  to  hear  the  preacher 
of  such  a  wilderness  was  not  the  least  of  my  motives.  On  entering  I 
was  struck  with  his  preternatural  appearance.  He  was  a  tall  and 
very  spare  old  man ;  his  head,  which  was  covered  with  a  white  linen 
cap,  his  shriveled  hands,  and  his  voice,  were  all  shaking  under  the  in- 
fluence of  palsy,  and  a  few  moments  ascertained  to  me  that  he  was 
perfectly  blind. 

II.  Didactic 

Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 

fFrom  "  The  Puritans." — Macaulay.] 

The  Puritans  were  men  whose  minds  had  derived  a  peculiar  char- 
acter from  the  daily  contemplation  of  superior  beings  and  eternal 
interests.  Not  content  with  acknowledging  in  general  terms  an 
overruhng  Providence,  they  habitually  ascribed  every  event  to  the 
will  of  the  Grreat  Being,  for  whose  power  nothing  was  too  vast,  for 
whose  mspection  nothing  was  too  minute.  To  know  him,  to  serve 
him,  to  enjoy  him,  was  with  them  the  great  end  of  existence.  They 
rejected  with  contempt  the  ceremonious  homage  which  other  sects 
substituted  for  the  pure  worship  of  the  soul.  Instead  of  catching 
occasional  glimpses  of  the  Deity  through  an  obscuring  vail,  they 
aspired  to  gaze  full  on  the  intolerable  brightness,  and  to  commune 
with  him  face  to  face.  Hence  originated  their  contempt  for  terrestrial 
diatiuctioiiB. 


PURE  TONE,   EXPLOSIVE  FORK.  65 

Repeat  the  following  elements  and  words  in  the  Ex- 
plosive Form,  Pure  Tone : 

Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form — First  Exercise. 
1.  1,  as  heard  in  ill,  fill. 


2. 

% 

a 

up,  sup. 

3. 

e, 

u 

ell,  end. 

4. 

a, 

(C 

add,  mad. 

5. 

a, 

u 

ask,  task. 

6. 

0, 

a 

odd,  on. 

7. 

^h 

u 

pull,  full. 

Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form — Second  Exercise. 

Yoii,  the,  cup,  tip, 

on,  bit,  end,  niay, 

me,  no,  will,  tap, 

nut,  fill,  rat,  pit. 

Pure  tone  in  its  explosive  form  is  the  quality  appro- 
priate for  the  expression  of  ecstatic  jo^  and  Qnirth, 

Examples  :   I.  Ecstatic  Joy. 

Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Voice  of  Spring."— Jfrs.  Eemans.l 

I  come,  I  come  1  ye  have  called  me  long  ; 
I  come  o'er  the  mountains  with  light  and  song  ; 
Te  may  trace  my  step  o'er  the  wak'ning  earth, 
By  the  winds  which  tell  of  the  violet's  birth, 
By  the  primrose  stars  in  the  shadowy  grass, 
By  the  green  leaves  opening  as  I  pass. 

II.  Gayety. 

Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form. 
[From  "  Lochinvar." — Scott.'] 

O,  yoimg  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  west! 
Through  all  the  wide  border  his  steed  was  the  best; 


66  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

And  save  his  good  broadsword  he  weapon  had  none ; 
He  rode, all  unarmed,  and  he  rode  all  alone. 
So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war. 
There  never  was  knight  like  the  young  Lochinvar. 

TLe  advantages  of  Pure  Tone  are  twofold — first,  to 
the  speaker;  second,  to  the  hearer.  It  is  produced  with 
less  expenditure  of  breath  than  any  other  quality ;  ita 
efiect  upon  the  vocal  organs  is  beneficial  rather  than 
injurious ;  with  the  same  eflbrt  it  is  heard  at  a  greater 
distance  than  any  other  quality  ;  its  clear  musical  prop- 
erties  give  a  distinctness  to  articulation  and  an  ease 
to  utterance  grateful  to  the  ear ;  it  produces  none  of 
the  jarring  effects  experienced  in  listening  to  a  speaker 
whose  voice  is  harsh,  hard,  or  in  any  way  impure  in 
quality. 

SECTION  VIII. 

OROTUND. 

The  orotund  is  that  quality  of  voice  in  which  the 
breath  is  converted  into  a  full,  round,  deep,  musical 
tone,  with  the  resonance  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
chest. 

It  is  distinguished  from  the  Pure  Tone  by  a  fullness, 
clearness,  strength,  smoothness,  and  sub-sonorous  quality 
resembling  the  resonance  of  certain  musical  instru- 
ments. 

"  In  the  orotund,  volume  and  purity  of  tone,  to  the 
greatest  extent  of  the  one  and  the  highest  perfec- 
tion of  the  other,  are  blended  in  one  vast  sphere  of 
sound." 

This  quality  is  possessed  naturally  by  very  few. 
Even  among  public  speakers  it  is  rarely  heard,  save  in  a 
limited  degree.     Act")rs  and  orators  of  eminence  and 


OROTUND,   EFFUSIVE   FORM.  67 

distinction  understand  and  appreciate  the  value  of  the 
orotund,  and  have  spared  no  pains  to  obtain  control  of 
it.  It  is  heard  in  all  their  utterance  of  grand,  lofty  and 
sublime  thoughts. 

Though  rarely  possessed,  it  is  susceptible  of  cultiva- 
tion, and  may  by  judicious  practice  be  acquired  by 
almost  every  one. 

Dr.  Rush  mentions  it  as  the  highest  perfection  of  the 
cultivated  utterance  of  the  public  speaker. 

To  acquire  control  of  the  orotund,  practice  the  fol- 
lowing exercise  with  the  freest  opening  of  the  vocal 
organs. 

Before  repeating  each  element  inhale  a  large  quantity 
of  air.  Give  to  each  sound  all  the  volume  and  quantity 
you  can  command. 

Orotund,  Effusive  Form — First  Exercise, 
1.  a,  as  in  father,  arm. 


2. 

a, 

u 

ask,  grass. 

3. 

a, 

u 

all,  talk. 

4. 

0, 

u 

old,  note. 

Repeat  the  words  as  directed  above,  carefully  observ- 
ing both  the  Effusive  Form  and  Orotund  Quality. 

Orotund,  Effusive  Form — Second  Exercise* 


Loud, 

deep, 

dread. 

profound, 

long, 

full, 

broad. 

sublime, 

round, 

honor. 

moon. 

endless, 

father, 

holy. 

roll, 

majesty, 

soul. 

hour. 

universe, 

dark, 

torrid,  silence,      blue,  grandeur. 


68  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

The  orotund,  in  tlie  effusive  form,  is  the  quality  of 
voice  appropriate  for  the  expression  of  sublimity^  grand- 
eur^ reverence^  adoration^  and  devotion. 

Examples  :   I.  Geandeur  and  Sublimity. 

Orotund^  Effusive  Form. 
[From  the  "  Apostrophe  to  the  Ocean."--5yrow.] 

Thou  glorious  mirror,  wliere  tlie  Almighty's  form 

G-lasses  itself  in  tempests ;  in  all  time — 
Calm  or  convulsed,  in  breeze,  or  gale,  or  storm, 

Icing  the  pole,  or  in  the  torrid  clime, 

Dark,  heaving,  boundless,  endless,  and  sublime, 
The  image  of  Eternity — the  throne 

Of  the  Invisible  !  even  from  out  thy  slime 
The  monsters  of  the  deep  are  made :  each  zone 
Obeys  thee :  thou  goest  forth,  dread,  fathomless,  alone. 

II.  Sublimity  and  Reverence. 

Orotund^  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  God."— Z>6?^^ai7m.] 

0  thou  Eternal  One  I  whose  presence  bright 

All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide : 
Unchanged  through  time's  all-devastating  flight ; 

Thou  only  Ood  1     There  is  no  God  beside  I 
Being  above  all  beings  I     Mighty  One  1 

Whom  none  can  comprehend,  and  none  explore ; 
"Who  fiU'st  existence  with  thyself  alone : 

Embracing  all — supporting — ruling  o'er ; 

Being  whom  we  call  God,  and  know  no  more  1 

III.   Reverence  and  Solemnity. 

Orotund,  Effusive  Form.  v 

[From  "Psalm  CIV."] 

Bless  the  Lord,  0  my  soul  I  0  Lord,  my  God,  thou  art  very  great ; 
thou  art  clothed  with  honor  and  majesty ;  who  coverest  thyself  with 
light  as  with  a  garment ;  who  stretchest  out  the  heavens  like  a  cur- 
tain: who  layeth  the  beams  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters;  who 
maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot ;  who  walketh  upo.n  the  wings  of  the 


OKOTUND,    EXPULSIVE  FORM.  09 

wind ;  who  maketli  his  angels  spirits,  his  ministers  a  tiaming  fire ; 
who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth,  that  it  should  not  be  removed 
forever. 


Repeat  the  following  elements  and  words  in  the  Ex- 
pulsive Form  with  the  fullest  Orotund  Quality.  Inflate 
the  lungs  fully  before  each  effort. 

Orotujstd,  Expulsive  Form — First  Exercise. 
1.  a,  as  heard  in  ale,  hale. 


2. 

a, 

add,  liave. 

3. 

a, 

air,  share. 

4. 

a, 

what,  wander. 

5. 

h 

ice,  fine. 

6. 

0, 

old,  bold. 

7. 

% 

use,  tube. 

Oeotund,  Expulsive  Form — Second  Exercise. 

Sink,  sword,  down,  live, 

die,  mercy,  slave,  read, 

this,  army,  spurn,  head, 

even,  drawn,  above,  never, 

dissever,  revive,  induce,  amuse, 

accuse,  ambition,  present,  forever. 

The  orotund,  in  the  expulsive  form,  is  the  quality 
appropriate  for  the  delivery  of  earnest^  bold,  grand  and 
lofty  thought  in  the  form  of  argumentative  and  ora- 
torical speeches  and  sermons,  and  impassioned  poetry. 

Examples  :   I.  Grand  and  Lofty  Sentiment. 

Orotund^  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Supposed  Speech  of  John  Adams." —  Webster.'] 

Read  this  declaration  at  the  head  of  the  army :  every  sword  will 
be  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  and  the  solemn  vow  uttered  to  maintain 


70  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

it,  or  perish  on  the  bed  of  honor.  Pubhsh  it  from  the  pulpit ;  re 
ligion  will  approve  it,  and  the  love  of  religious  liberty  will  clinii 
around  it,  resolved  to  stand  with  it  or  fall  with  it.  Send  it  to  the 
public  halls ;  proclaim  it  there.  Let  them  hear  it  who  heard  the  roar 
of  the  enemy's  cannon ;  let  them  see  it  who  saw  their  brothers  and 
their  sons  fall  on  the  field  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  in  the  streets  of  Lexing- 
ton and  Concord,  and  the  very  walls  will  cry  out  in  its  support. 

II.  Oeatorical  Appeal. 

Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Speech  in  Yirginia  Convention." — Patrick  B'enryJ] 
It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  G-entlemen  may  cry 
Peace  1  peace  I  but  there  is  no  peace.  The  war  is  actually  begun  I 
The  next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  North  will  bring  to  our  ears  the 
clash  of  resounding  arms !  Our  brethren  are  already  in  the  field  1 
Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What  is  it  that  gentlemen  wish  ?  What 
jv^ould  they  have  ?  Is  life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  pur- 
chased at  the  price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Almighty  God ! 
I  know  not  what  course  others  may  take ;  but  as  for  me,  give  me 
liberty,  or  give  me  death ! 

III.  Earnest  Exhortation. 

Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Motives  of  the  Gospel." — JDwight,'] 

Ministers  proclaim  to  you  the  glad  tidings  of  great  joy,  and  point 
out  to  you  the  path  to  heaven.  The  Sabbath  faithfully  returns  its 
mild  and  sweet  seasons  of  grace  that  earthly  objects  may  not  engross 
your  thoughts  and  prevent  your  attention  to  immortality.  The  sanc- 
tuary unfolds  its  doors  and  invites  you  to  enter  in  and  be  saved. 

The  G-ospel  still  shines  to  direct  your  feet  and  to  quicken  your  pur- 
suit of  the  inestimable  prize.  Saints  wait  with  fervent  hope  of  renew- 
ing their  joy  over  your  repentance.  Angels  spread  their  wings  to 
conduct  you  home.  The  Father  holds  out  the  golden  scepter  of  for- 
giveness that  you  may  touch  and  live.  The  Son  died  on  the  crosa, 
ascended  to  heaven,  and  intercedes  before  the  throne  of  mercy  that 
you  may  be  accepted.  The  Spirit  of  grace  and  truth  descends  with 
his  benevolent  influence  to  allure  and  persuade  you.  While  all 
things,  and  God  at  the  head  of  all  things,  are  thus  kindly  and  sol- 
emnly employed  to  encourage  you  in  the  pursuit  of  this  inestimable 
good,  will  you  forget  that  you  have  souls  which  must  be  saved  or  lost  ? 

Yf  ill  you  forget  that  the  only  time  of  salvation  is  the  present  ?  that 


OROTUND,  EXPLOSIVE   FORM.  "      71 

beyond  the  grave  there  is  no  Grospel  to  be  preached  ?  that  there  no 
offers  of  Hfe  are  to  be  made  ?  that  no  Redeemer  will  there  expiate 
your  sins,  and  no  forgiving  God  receive  your  souls  ? 

lY.  Impassioned  Poetic. 

Orotund^  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "Launching  of  Ship."— Zo7ig/eZ?otr.] 

Thou,  too,  sail  on,  0  Ship  of  State ! 
Sail  on,  0  Union,  strong  and  great  I 
Humanity,  with  all  its  fears, 
"With  all  its  hopes  of  future  years, 
Is  hanging  breathless  on  thy  fate  I 
"We  know  what  Master  laid  thy  keel, 
What  workmen  wrought  thy  ribs  of  steel, 
"Who  made  each  mast,  and  sail,  and  rope, 
What  anvils  rang,  what  hammers  beat, 
In  what  a  forge,  and  what  a  heat, 
Were  shaped  the  anchors  of  thy  hope. 

Eear  not  each  siidden  sound  and  shock; 

'Tis  of  the  wave,  and  not  the  rock ; 

'Tis  but  the  flapping  of  the  sail, 

And  not  a  rent  made  by  the  gale. 

In  spite  of  rock  and  tempest  roar, 

In  spite  of  false  lights  on  the  shore, 

Sail  on,  nor  fear  to  breast  the  sea  1 

Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  are  all  with  thee: 

Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  tears, 

Our  faith  triumphant  o'er  our  fears. 

Are  all  with  thee — are  all  with  thee. 

Repeat  tlie  following  elements  and  words  in  the  Ex- 
plosive Form,  fullest  Orotund  Quality.  Be  careful  to 
give  each  exercise  the  sudden,  startling  explosive. 

Orotund,  Explosive  Form — Fikst  Exercise. 

1.  a,  as  heard  in  add,  fat. 

2.  g,  ''  end,  met. 

3.  i,  "  ill,  fin. 


72      *  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

4.  o,  as  heard  in  odd,  not. 

5.  ti,  "  us,  tub. 

Orotund,  Explosive  Form — Second  Exercisk. 


Up, 

but. 

study. 

have, 

random. 

end, 

add. 

odd. 

done. 

order. 

put. 

push, 

He, 

admit, 

not. 

sit, 

back. 

neck, 

pick, 

sick, 

hack. 

mock. 

tuck. 

hick. 

The  orotund,  in  the  explosive  form,  is  the  quality 
appropriate  for  the  expression  of  courage^  warning^ 
alarm^  terror  and  abrupt  exclamation. 

Examples  :  I.  Courage. 

Orotund^  Explosive  Form. 
[From  "  Marco  Bozzaris."— JJaZ^ec^.] 

Strike  I  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires ; 
Strike !  for  your  altars  and  your  fires ; 
Strike  I  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 
God,  and  your  native  land  1 

II.  Terror. 

Orotund^  Explosive  Form. 

[From  "  Marco  Bozzaris-"— ^a^^ecjfc.] 

To  arms  I  they  come  I  the  Greek  1  the  Greek! 

III.  Alarm. 

Orotund^    Explosive  Form, 
[From  "  The  Bells."— Poe.J 

Hear  the  loud  alarum  bells — 
Brazen  bells ! 
What  a  tale  of  terror  now  their  turbulency  tells! 
In  the  startled  ear  of  night 
How  they  scream  out  their  affright ! 


OROTUND,   EXPLOSIVE   FORM.  73 

Too  much,  horrified  to  speak, 
They  can  only  shriek,  shriek, 
Out  of  tune, 
In  a  clamorous  appealing  to  the  mercy  of  the  fire. 
In  a  mad  expostulation  with  the  deaf  and  frantic  fire, 
Leaping  higher,  higher,  higher, 
"With  a  desperate  desire. 
And  a  resolute  endeavor, 
Now — ^now  to  sit,  or  never. 
By  the  side  of  the  pale-faced  moon. 
0  the  bells,  bells,  bells  1 
What  a  tale  their  terror  tells 
Of  despair  1 
How  they  clang,  and  clash,  and  roar  1 
"What  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air  1 
Yet  the  ear,  it  fully  knows. 
By  the  twanging 
And  the  clanging. 
How  the  danger  ebbs  and  flows , 
Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells, 
In  the  jangling 
And  the  wrangling. 
How  the  danger  sinks  and  swells, 
By  the  sinking  or  the  swelling  in  the  anger  of  the  bells — 
Of  the  bells— 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells. 
Bells,  bells,  bells — 
In  the  clamor  and  the  clangor  of  the  bells  I 

The  orotund  is  fuller  in  volume  and  purer  in  quality 
fclian  the  common  voice ;  it  is  more  musical  in  tone ;  it 
is  more  efficient  in  the  production  of  long  quantity ;  it 
is  more  under  command;  it  is  freer  from  all  impurities; 
it  is,  in  short,- the  only  quality  appropriate  for  the  so 
lemnity  of  the  Church  service,  the  grandeur  and  energy 
of  the  oration,  and  the  majesty  and  sublimity  of  Shak^ 
speare  and  Milton. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  imagined  that  the  orotund, 
tvhen  once  acquired,  is  to  entirely  supersede  the  common 


74  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

voice.  Students  of  Elocution  and  public  speakers  fre- 
quently render  themselves  ridiculous,  and  the  study  of 
Elocution  disgusting,  by  parading  their  powers  of  oro- 
tund on  all  occasions.     Such  exhibitions  resemble 

"  Ocean  into  tempest  tossed 
To  waft  a  feather  or  to  drown  a  fly." 

Except  in  the  expression  of  grand,  lofty,  and  sublime 

thought,    the   Pure    Tone    should   form    the    basip    of 

utterance. 

SECTION  IX. 

ASPIRATE. 

The  aspirate  is  that  quality  of  voice  in  which  the 
breath  is  sent  forth  from  the  organs  without  being  con- 
verted into  vocal  sound.  The  whisper  is  the  perfection 
of  the  aspirate  quality. 

Like  the  Pure  Tone  and  Orotund,  it  has  its  effusive, 
expulsive  and  explosive  forms. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  quality,  practice  in  a  whis- 
pered tone  the  elements  and  words  and  sentences  in 
wliich  the  element  h  predominates. 

Aspirate,  Effusiye  Form — First  Exercise. 

1.  e,  as  heard  in  me,  eve. 

2.  a,          "  fate,  gray. 

3.  o,          "  old,  note. 

4.  u,          "  use,  lute. 

5.  00,        "  moon,  food. 

6.  1,           "  ice,  fine. 

Aspirate,  Effusive  Form — Second  Exercise 
Hope,  home,  have.  House, 

high,  host,  heaven,        hand, 

had,  heart,  hear,  h^^ge, 

hum,  think,  thrust,  thousand. 


ASPIRATE,    EFFUSIVE   FOBM.  76 

The  aspirate,  in  the  effusive  form,  is  the  quality  ap- 
propriate for  the  expression  of  secret  thought^  sup' 
pressed  fear  and  profound  repose. 

Combined  with  the  orotund,  the  aspirate  intensifies 
the  expression  of  sublimity,  awe,  reverence  and  amaze- 
ment. 

It  is  in  this  combined  form  that  the  aspirate  will  be 
of  the  greatest  practical  advantage  to  the  general 
student. 

Examples  :  I.  Stillness. 

Aspirate^  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "  Dying-  Eequest." — Mrs.  He^nans.} 

Leave  me  1  Thy  footstep  witli  its  lightest  sound, 

The  very  shadow  of  thy  waving  liair, 
Wakes  in  my  soul  a  feeling  too  profound, 

Too  strong,  for  aught  that  lives  and  dies  to  bear ; 
0  bid  the  conflict  cease  ! 

11.  Pkofouxd  Repose. 

Aspirate,  Effusive  Form. 
[Prom  "Stillness  of  Night."— ^^/row.] 
All  heaven  and  earth  are  still,  though  not  in  sleep, 

But  breathless,  as  we  grow  when  feeling  most, 
And  silent,  as  we  stand  in  thoughts  too  deep ; 

All  heaven  and  earth  are  still :  from  the  liigli  host 

Of  stars  to  the  lulled  lake  and  mountain  coast, 
All  is  concentrated  in  a  life  intense, 

"Where  not  a  beam,  nor  air,  nor  leaf,  is  lost, 
But  hath  a  part  of  being,  and  a  sense 
Of  that  which  is  of  all  Creator  and  Defense. 

in.  Sublimity  and  Reverence. 

Aspirate,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  a  Eussian  Hymn. — Browning.'] 
Thou  breaUiest,  and  the  obedient  storm  is  still ; 
Thou  speakest ;  silent  the  submissive  wave : 
Man's  shattered  ship  the  rushing  waters  fill 
And  the  hushed  billows  roll  across  his  grave. 


76  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Sourceless  and  endless  Ood !     Compared  to  thee. 
Life  is  a  shadowy,  momentary  dream ; 

And  time,  when  viewed  through  thy  eternity, 
Less  than  the  mote  of  morning's  golden  beam. 


IV.  Sublimity  and  Awe. 

Aspirate,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Closing  Year." — Prentice.] 

'Tis  midnight's  holy  hour,  and  silence  now 
Is  brooding,  like  a  gentle  spirit,  o'er 
The  still  and  pulseless  world.     Hark  I  on  the  winds 
The  bell's  deep  tones  are  swelling — 'tis  the  knell 
Of  the  departed  year. 

No  funeral  train 
Is  sweeping  past ;  yet  on  the  stream  and  wood, 
"With  melancholy  light,  the  moonbeams  rest 
Like  a  pale,  spotless  shroud ;  the  air  is  stirred 
As  by  a  mourner's  sigh ;  and  on  yon  cloud, 
That  floats  so  still  and  placidly  through  heaven, 
The  spirits  of  the  seasons  seem  to  stand — 
Young  Spring,  bright  Summer,  Autumn's  solemn  form, 
And  Winter  with  his  aged  locks,  and  breathe, 
In  mournful  cadences,  that  come  abroad 
Like  the  far  wind-harp's  wild  and  touching  wail, 
A  melancholy  dirge  o'er  the  dead  year. 
Gone  from  the  earth  forever. 


Aspirate,  Expulsive  Form — Exercise. 

Repeat  the  elements  and  words  on  page  74  in  the 
expulsive  form,  aspirate  quality. 

The  aspirate,  in  the  expulsive  form,  is  the  quality 
appropriate  for  the  expression  of  sudden  fear,  alarm 
and  terror.  Combined  with  the  orotund,  it  gives  in- 
tensity to  awe  and  horror. 


ASPIRATE,  EXPULSIVE  FORM.  77 

ExAiviPLES :   I.  Alarm  ais^d  Fear. 

Aspirate,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Battle  of  Waterloo:''— Byron.} 
While  thronged  the  citizens  with  terror  dumb, 
Or  whispered  with  white  lips,  "  The  foe !     - 
They  come !  they  come  I  " 

II.  Suppressed  Command,  Fear. 

Aspirate  J  Expulsive  Form. 
[Fr(;m  "  Military  Command.'" — Anon.} 

Soldiers,  you  are  n(<w  within  a  few  steps  of  the  enemy's  outposts! 
Our  scouts  report  them  as  slumbering  in  parties  around  their  watch- 
fires,  and  utterly  unprepared  for  our  approach.  A  swift  and  noiseless 
advance  around  that  projecting  rock,  and  we  are  upon  them — we  cap- 
ture them  without  the  possibility  of  resistance.  One  disorderly  noise 
or  motion  may  leave  us  at  the  mercy  of  their  advanced  guard.  Let 
every  man  keep  the  strictest  silence  under  the  pain  of  instant  deatli- 

III.  Intense  Fear,  Awe,  and  Horror. 

Aspirate^  Orotund,  Expulsive  Foi^m. 
[From  "  ^SimleV—Shalcspeare.} 
Angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us  ! 
Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damned. 
Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell, 
Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable, 
Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape 
That  I  will  speak  to  thee  ;  I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 
King,  father,  royal  Dane :  0  answer  me  : 
Let  me  not  burst  in  ignorance !  but  tell 
Why  thy  canonized  bones,  hearsed  in  death, 
Have  burst  their  cerements  I  why  the  sepulcher, 
Wherein  we  saw  thee  quietly  in-urned, 
Hath  op'd  his  ponderous  and  marble  jaws. 
To  cast  thee  up  again  I     What  may  this  mean, 
That  thou,  dead  corse,  again,  in  complete  steel, 
Revisitest  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon, 
Making  night  hideous :  and  we  fools  of  nature, 
So  horribly  to  shake  our  disposition. 
With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls  ? 
Say,  why  is  this  ?  wherefore  ?  what  should  we  do  ? 


78  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Aspirate,  Explosive  Foem — Exercise. 

Repeat  the  elements  and  words  on  page  74  in  the 
explosive  form,  with  aspirate  quality. 

The  aspirate,  in  the  explosive  form,  is  the  quality  of 
voice  appropriate  for  the  expression  of  intense  fear^  hor- 
ror^ awe  and  dread.  Mingled  with  the  orotund,  it  in- 
tensifies the  expressions  excited  by  sudden  terror  and 
alarm. 

Examples  :  I.  Intense  Horror 

Aspirate^  Explosive  Form. 
[From  "Macbeth." — Shdkspeare,'] 

Methought  I  heard  a  voice  cry,  Sleep  no  more  I 
Macbeth  does  murder  sleep,  the  innocent  sleep: 
Sleep  that  knits  up  the  raveled  sleeve  of  care, 
The  death  of  each  day's  life,  sore  labor's  bath, 
Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  nature's  second  course, 
Chief  nourisher  in  life's  feast. 

IT.   Exclamation   Caused   by  Sudden  Horeor   and 
Alarm. 

Aspirate -Orotund^  Explosive  Form, 
[From  "Macbeth." — Shakspeare.} 

Avaunt  I  and  quit  my  sight !     Let  the  earth  hide  thee  I 
Thy  bones  are  marrowless,  thy  blood  is  cold ; 
Thou  hast  no  speculation  in  those  eyes 
Which  thou  dost  glare  with  I 

Without  command  of  the  aspirate  quality  it  is  impos- 
sible to  give  appropriate  expression  to  the  emotions  of 
fear,  awe,  horror,  dread,  amazement,  and  similar  pas- 
sions. 

The  utterance  of  deep  solemnity  and  sublimity  is 
greatly  intensified  by  mingling  the  aspirate  quality  with 
the  orotund. 

Like  all  other  elements  of  utterance,  it  must  be  praor 


PECTORAL,    EFFUSIVE.  79 

ticed  judiciously  or  the  effect  will  be  injurious  rather 
than  beneficial. 

SECTION  X. 

PECTORAL. 

The  pectoral  is  that  quality  of  voice  in  which  the 
breath,  by  a  rigid  and  contracted  position  of  the  organs 
of  speech  and  muscles  of  the  throat  and  neck,  is  con- 
verted into  a  harsh,  husky  sound,  with  the  resonance  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  throat. 

This  quality  of  voice  is  frequently  exhibited  by  per- 
sons whose  organs  have  been  injured  by  strong  drink. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  quality  of  voice,  practice  the 
following  elements  and  words  in  the  effusive  form,  with 
the  organs  so  contracted  as  to  obstruct  the  passage  of 
the  air : 

Pectoral,  Effusive  Form — First  Exercise. 

1.  a,  as  heard  in  ale,  pale. 

2.  e,  "  me,  see. 

3.  T,  "  ice,  rice. 

4.  o,  "  old,  bold. 

5.  ti,  "  use,  muse. 

Pectoral,  Effusive  Form — Second  Exercise. 


Hate, 

despise. 

how. 

fawning, 

publican. 

Christian, 

flight. 

sight. 

fat, 

grudge. 

hip. 

lives, 

honor, 

fear. 

flaws. 

eyes, 

blood, 

peers. 

glare. 

hence. 

The  pectoral,  m  the  effusive  form,  is  the  quality  ap- 
propriate for  the  expression  of  awe,  suppressed  horror, 
dread^  despair  and  similar  passions.    Like  the  Aspii'ate, 


80  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

when  combined  with  the  Orotund,  it  intensifies  the  ut- 
terance of  deep  solemnity,  sublimity,  adoration  and 
profound  reverence. 

Examples  :  I.  Awe  and  Horror. 

Pectoral^  Effusive  Form, 
[From  "Darkness." — ^yron."] 

I  had  a  dream,  which  was  not  all  a  dream. 

The  bright  sun  was  extinguished,  and  the  stars 

Did  wander,  darkling,  in  the  eternal  space, 

Rayless  and  pathless,  and  the  icy  earth 

Swung  blind  and  blackening  in  the  moonless  air. 

Morn  came,  and  went — and  came,  and  brought  no  day 

And  men  forgot  their  passions,  in  the  dread 

Of  this  their  desolation ;  and  all  hearts 

Were  chilled  into  a  selfish  prayer  for  light. 

And  they  did  live  by  watch-fires ;  and  the  throne*, 

The  palaces  of  crowned  kings,  the  huts, 

The  habitations  of  all  things  which  dwell. 

Were  burnt  for  beacons :  cities  were  consumed, 

And  men  were  gathered  round  their  blazing  homos, 

To  look  once  more  into  each  other's  face. 

Happy  were  those  who  dwelt  within  the  eye 

Of  the  volcanoes  and  their  mountain  torch. 

II.  Horror  and  Dread. 

Pectoral,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  Macbeth."— /SAa4;s;95cwe.] 

Now  o'er  the  one  half  world 
Nature  seems  dead ;  and  wicked  dreams  abuse 
The  curtained  sleep ;  now  witchcraft  celebrates 
Pale  Hecate's  offerings ;  and  withered  murder, 
Alarumed  by  his  sentinel,  the  wolf, 
Whose  howl's  his  watch,  thus,  with  his  stealthy  paoej 
Toward  his  design 

Moves  like  a  ghost.     Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth  I 
Hear  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk;  for  fear 
The  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout, 
And  take  the  present  horror  from  the  time, 
Which  now  suits  with  it 


OROTUND-PECTORAL,  EFFUSIVE.  81 

III.  Awe  and  Deep  Solemnity. 

Orotund- Fectw^al,  Effusive  Form, 
[Jacob's  Exclamation  after  his  Dream. — Bible.\ 

How  dreadful  is  this  place  !  This  is  none  other  than  the  house  of 
Grod,  and  the  gate  of  heaven  I 

lY.  Awe  and  Profound  Sublimity. 

Orotund-Pectoral,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  the  Psalms.] 

Of  old  Thou  hast  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth ;  and  the  heavens 
are  the  work  of  thy  hands.  They  shall  perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure ; 
yea,  all  of  them  shall  wax  old  like  a  garment ;  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou 
change  them,  and  they  shall  be  changed :  but  thou  art  the  same ;  and 
thy  years  shall  have  no  end. 

Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst 
formed  the  earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting 
thou  art  God.  Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction;  and  sayest,  "Re- 
turn, ye  children  of  men." 

For  a  thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but  as  yesterday  when  it  is 
past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the  night. 

Thou  carriest  them  away  as  with  a  flood ;  they  are  as  a  sleep :  in 
the  morning  they  are  like  grass  which  groweth  up.  In  the  morning 
it  flourisheth  and  groweth  up :  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  down  and 
withereth. 

Pectoral,  Expulsive  Form — Exercise. 

Repeat  the  elements  and  words  on  page  79  in  the 
expulsive  form,  pectoral  quality. 

The  pectoral,  in  the  expulsive  form,  is  the  quality 
appropriate  for  the  expression  of  hate.,  malice^  sco7m^ 
revenge,  etc. 

Examples  :  I.  Hatred  and  Malicb. 

Pectoral,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Merchant  of  Venice." — ShakspeareJ] 

How  like  a  fawning  publican  he  looks ! 
I  hate  him,  for  he  is  a  Christian  j 


82  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION". 

But  more,  for  that,  in  low  simplicity, 

He  lends  out  money  gratis,  and  brings  down 

The  rate  of  usance  with  us  here  in  Yenice. 

If  I  can  catch  him  once  upon  the  hip, 

I  will  feed  fat  the  ancient  grudge  I  bear  him  I 

He  hates  our  sacred  nation ;  and  he  rails, 

Even  there  where  merchants  most  do  congregatSj 

On  me,  my  bargains,  and  my  well- won  thrift, 

Which  he  calls  interest.    Cursed  be  my  tribe 

If  I  forgive  him  1 


11.  Horror  ajstd  Terror. 

Pectoral^  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Richard  lli:''—Shakspeare!\ 

0  I  have  passed  a  miserable  night  1 

So  full  of  fearful  dreams,  of  ugly  sights, 
That,  as  I  am  a  Christian,  faithful  man, 

1  would  not  spend  another  such  a  night. 
Though  'twere  to  buy  a  world  of  happy  days; 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  time ! 

My  dream  was  lengthened  after  life : 

0  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul  I 

With  that,  methought,  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 
Environed  me,  and  howled  in  mine  ears 
Such  hideous  cries,  that,  v/ith  the  very  noise, 

1  trembling  waked,  and,  for  a  seascn  after, 
Could  not  believe  but  that  I  was  in  hell ; 
Such  terrible  impression  made  my  dream  1 


in.  Scorn  and  Abhorrence. 

Pectoral^  Expulsive  Form. 
[Masaniello,  In  reply  to  the  base  suggestions  of  Gennlno,] 

I  would  that  now 
I  could  forget  the  monk  wtio  stands  before  me ; 
For  he  is  like  the  accursed  and  crafty  snake  I 
Hence  1  from  my  sight  1     Thou  Satan,  get  behind  me 
Gro  from  my  sight  1    I  hate  and  I  despise  thee  i 


PECTORAL,    EXPLOSIVE.  83 

Pectoral,  Explosive  Foem — Exeecise. 

Practice  the  elements  and  words  on  page  79  in  the 
explosive  form,  with  pectoral  quality. 

The  pectoral,in  the  explosive  form,is  the  quality  for 
the  expression  of  aiiger^  Tccge^  threatening^  defiance^  etc. 

It  is  usually  more  or  less  mingled  with  the  aspirate 
and  orotund  in  the  expression  of  these  passions. 

Examples:  I.  Angee  and  Theeatenino. 

Pectoral^  Explosive  Fwm. 
[From  "  Cataline's  Defiance." — Croh/."] 
"  Traitor  I  "     I  go ;  but  I  return.     This— trial  ? 
Here  I  devote  your  senate  I     I've  had  wrongs 
To  stir  a  fever  in  tbe  blood  of  age, 
Or  make  the  infant's  sinews  strong  as  steel. 
This  day's  the  birth  of  sorrow  I     This  hour's  work 
"Will  breed  proscriptions!     Look  to  your  hearths,  my  lords  I. 
For  there,  henceforth,  shall  sit,  for  household  gods. 
Shapes  hot  from  Tartarus  !  all  shames  and  crimes  I 
"Wan  treachery,  with  his  thirsty  dagger  drawn; 
Suspicion,  poisoning  his  brother's  cup ; 
Naked  rebellion,  with  the  torch  and  ax, 
Making  his  wild  sport  of  your  blazing  thrones ; 
Till  anarchy  comes  down  on  you  like  night, 
And  massacre  seals  Rome's  eternal  grave  1 

II.  Hateed  and  Rage. 

Pectoral,  Explosive  Form. 
[Jf rom  "  Paradise  LosV— Milton.'^ 

Be  then  his  love  accursed  I     Since  love  or  hate, 

To  me  alike,  it  deals  eternal  woe. 

Nay,  cursed  be  thou  I  since  against  his  thy  will 

Chose  freely  what  it  now  so  justly  rues. 

Me  miserable  I  which  way  shall  I  fly  2 

Infinite  wrath  and  infinite  despair  1 

Which  way  I  fly  is  hell,  myself  am  hell ; 

And  in  the  lowest  deep,  a  lower  deep 

Still  threatens  to  devour  me,  opens  wide. 

To  which  the  hell  I  suffer  seems  a  heaven ! 


84  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

III.  Anger  and  Defiance. 

Pectoral^  Aspirate^  Orotund^  Explosive  Form, 
[From  "  Seminole's  Defiance." — PaUen.'\ 

Blaze,  with  your  serried  columns  I 

I  will  not  bend  the  knee  1 
The  shackles  ne'er  again  shall  bind 

The  arm  which  now  is  free. 
I've  mailed  it  with  the  thunder, 

When  the  tempest  muttered  low ; 
And  where  it  falls,  ye  well  may  dread 

The  lightning  of  its  blow  I 

The  pectoral,  like  tlie  aspirate,  is  the  naturnl  lan- 
guage of  intense  passion.  Without  control  of  this 
quality  of  voice  many  of  the  finest  passages  of  the 
Bible,  Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  cannot  be  impressively 
uttered. 

Emphasis  not  unfrequently  requires  the  use  of  the 
pectoral  quality.  Great  care  will  be  required  on  the 
part  of  the  pupil  that  the  too  frequent  use  of  this  quality 
do  not  injure  the  Pure  Tone  and  Orotund. 

SECTION  XL 
GUTTURAL. 

The  guttural  is  that  quality  of  voice  m  which  the 
sound  is  sent  forth  from  the  organs  in  a  rough,  harsh, 
discordant  tone,  with  the  resonance  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  throat.  It  resembles  in  quality  the  growling  utter- 
ranee  of  the  lower  animals.  To  cultivate  this  quality 
of  voice  practice  the  elements  and  words  with  a  muffled, 
harsh,  smothered  tone. 

Guttural,  Effusive  Form — First  Exercise, 

1.  1,  as  heard  in  lull,  fill. 

2.  r,  "  round,  rise. 

3.  g,         "  give,  hag. 


GUTTURAL,  EFFUSIVE.  85 

Guttural,  Effusive  Foem— Second  Exercise. 

Revenge,  hinder,  mocked,  losses, 

cooled,  gulped,  enemies,  bargains, 

hates,  gratitude,  harshness,  arose, 

despise,  lives,  dies,  million. 

The  guttural,  in  the  effusive  form,  is  the  quality  ap- 
propriate for  the  expression  of  settled  hate^  malice^  loatlv 
ing  and  contempt. 

Examples  :  I.  Settled  Hate  and  Malice. 

Guttural^  Effusive  Form. 
[From  '•  Merchant  of  Venice." — ShaTcspeare.l 

I'll  have  my  bond :  I  will  not  hear  thee  speak : 

I'll  have  my  bond ;  and  therefore  speak  "no  more 

I'll  not  be  made  a  soft  and  dull-eyed  fool, 

To  shake  the  head,  relent,  and  sigh,  and  yield 

To  Christian  intercessors.     Follow  not ; 

I'll  have  no  speaking ;  I  will  have  my  bond. 

II.  LoATHii^G  AKD  Contempt. 

Guttural^  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  Merchant  of  Venice.'" — Shakspeare.} 

Yes,  to  smell  pork :  to  eat  of  the  habitation  which  your  prophet, 
the  Nazarite,  conjured  the  devil  into.  I  will  buy  wit^  you,  sell  with 
you,  talk  with  you,  walk  with  you,  and  so  following ;  but  I  will  not 
©at  with  you,  drink  with  you,  nor  pray  with  you. 

GuTTUEAL,  Expulsive  Form — Exercise. 

Repeat  the  elements  and  words  of  last  exercise  in  the 
expulsive  form,  guttural  quality. 

The  guttural  in  the  expulsive  form  is  appropriate 
for  the  expression  of  deep-seated  revenge^  settled  rage, 
intense  loatJmig^  and  similar  malignant  passions. 


86  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Examples  :  I.  Deep-Seated  Revenge. 

Guttural^  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Merchant  of  Venice."— /iS^aA^speore.J 

To  bait  fish  withal :  if  it  will  feed  nothing  else,  it  will  feed  my  re- 
venge. He  hath  disgraced  me,  and  hindered  me  of  half  a  million: 
laughed  at  my  losses,  mocked  at  my  gains,  scorned  my  nation, 
thwarted  my  bargains,  cooled  my  friends,  heated  my  enemies;  and 
what's  his  reason?  I  am  a  Jew.  Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  Hath  not 
a  Jew  hands,  organs,  dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions  ?  Fed 
with  the  same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons,  subject  to  the  same 
diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means,  warmed  and  cooled  by  the  same 
winter  and  summer,  as  a  Christian  is  ?  If  you  prick  us,  do  we  not 
bleed  ?  if  you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ?  if  you  poison  us,  do  we 
not  die  ?  and  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not  revenge  ?  If  we  are  like 
vou  in  the  rest,  we  will  resemble  you  in  that.  If  a  Jew  wrong  a 
Christian,  what  is  his  humility  ?  Revenge  1  If  a  Christian  wrong  a 
Jew,  what  should  his  sufferance  be  by  Christian  example?  Why, 
revenge  I  The  villainy  you  teach  me  I  will  execute  I  and  it  shall  go 
hard  but  I  will  better  the  instruction  1 

Guttural,  Explosive  Form — Exercise. 

Repeat  the  elements  and  words  on  pages  85,  86  in  the 
explosive  form,  guttural  quality. 

The  guttural  in  the  explosive  form  is  the  language 
of  inte7ise  anger,  hate  and  detestation. 

Example  :  Intense  Hate,  Loathing  and  Angeb. 

Guttural,  Explosive  Form. 
[From  "  Seminole's  Defiance." — Patten."] 

T  loathe  you  with  my  bosom !  I  scorn  you  with  mine  eye  I 
And  I'll  taunt  you  with  my  latest  breath,  and  fight  you  till  I  die  I 
I  ne'er  will  ask  for  quarter,  and  I  ne'er  will  be  your  slave ; 
But  I'll  swim  the  sea  of  slaughter  till  I  sink  beneath  the  wave  I 

The  guttural  is  employed  only  in  the  expression  of 
the  more  violent  forms  of  the  malignant  passions. 

In  the  utterance  of  these  it  is  powerful  in  its  effect 


ORAL   QUALITY.  87 

over  the  mind  and  heart.  Practiced  moderately,  its 
effect  on  the  vocal  organs  is  beneficial;  but  if  carried 
too  far  injurious. 

SECTION  XIL 
ORAL. 

The  oral  is  that  quality  of  voice  in  which  the  sound 
is  sent  forth  from  the  organs  in  a  thin,  feeble  tone,  with 
the  resonance  in  the  forward  part  of  the  mouth. 

It  is  heard  in  the  utterance  of  persons  in  a  feeble  state 
of  health,  and  frequently  by  those  who  are  afflicted  with 
affectation. 

But  little  difficulty  will  be  experienced  in  producing 
this  quality  of  voice  sufficiently  perfect  for  practical 
purposes. 

The  great  difficulty  with  most  public  speakers  will  be 
to  avoid  its  unconscious  use. 

ISTo  defect  is  more  common  than  the  improper  use  of 
the  oral  tone. 

One  or  two  illustrations  will  be  sufficient  for  practice. 

Exercises  on  the  elements  and  words  will  be  unne- 
cessary. 

The  oral  is  the  quality  of  voice  appropriate  for  the 
expression  oi  feebleness^  exhaustion  and  fatigue. 

Examples  :  I.  FeeblexVess. 

Oral,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "Little  Jim.''''— Anon.} 

"  Mother,  the  angels,  they  do  smile,  and  beckon  *  Little  Jim.' 

I  have  no  pain,  dear  mother,  now ;  but  0,  I  am  so  dry  1 

Just  moisten  poor  Jim's  lips  again ;  and,  mother,  don't  ye  cry." 

"With  gentle,  trembling  haste  she  held  the  liquid  to  his  lips  ; 

He  smiled  to  thank  her  as  he  took  each  little  tiny  sip — 

"  Tell  father,  when  he  comes  from  work,  I  said  good-night  to  him ; 

A.nd,  mother,  now  I'll  go  to  sleep."     Alas !  poor  "  Little  Jim." 


88  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

II. 

Oral^  Ervulsive  Form. 
fFrom  "  Wounded."— i2e^.  W.  E.  Mider.} 

Let  me  lie  down 
Just  here  in  the  shade  of  this  cannon-torn  tree, 
Here,  low  on  the  trampled  grass,  where  I  may  see 
The  surge  of  the  combat,  and  where  I  may  hear 
The  glad  cry  of  victory,  cheer  upon  cheer : 

Let  me  he  down. 

0,  it  was  grand ! 
Lilce  the  tempest  we  charged,  in  the  triumph  to  share ; 
The  tempest — its  fury  and  thunder  were  there : 
On,  on,  o'er  intrenchments^  o'er  living  and  dead, 
"With  the  foe  underfoot,  and  our  flag  overhead : 

0,  it  was  grand  1 

The  oral  quality  of  voice  is  indispensable  in  the  per- 
Bonation  of  characters  exhibiting  'feebleness,  weakness, 
languor, ov  sickness. 

Works  on  Elocution  generally  ignore  altogether  the 
Aspirate,  Pectoral,  Guttural,  and  Oral,  regarding  them 
as  defects  in  quality.  And  for  the  utterance  of  ordinary 
thought  they  are  defects,  but  for  the  expression  of  pas- 
sion and  emotion  they  are  quite  as  important  as  Pure 
Tone  and  Orotund. 

Without  command  of  these  qualities  it  is  impossible 
to  express  appropriately  many  of  the  higher  and  nobler 
forms  of  feeling,  or  any  of  the  baser  and  malignant 
passions. 

That  the  student  of  Elocution  may  know  when  to  use, 
as  well  as  when  to  avoid,  these  qualities,  they  have  been 
presented  in  detail  in  their  appropriate  relations. 

The  nasal  is  that  quality  of  voice  in  which  the  sound 
Beems  to  have  a  resonance  in  the  nasal  organs. 

It  is  used  only  in  niinilory  and  hurlesque,  and  hence 
no  exercises  or  illustrations  are  needed. 


FORCE.  89 

SECTION  XIII. 
FORCE. 

ForC8  is  the  degree  of  intensity  with  which  tbe  sound 
is  sent  forth  from  the  vocal  organs. 

Volume  and  loudness,  though  not  identical  with  force, 
are  dependent  upon  it.  A  full  volume  is  produced  by 
energetic  or  impassioned  force  with  Orotund  quality  in 
all  forms ;  great  loudness  by  impassioned  force,  Pure 
Tone,  or  Orotund,  High  Pitch,  and  in  all  forms. 

'No  amount  of  force  can  give  volume  or  loudness  to 
aspirate  quality  in  any  of  its  forms. 

Volume  relates  to  the  amount  of  space  filled  with  the 
sound,  loudness  to  the  distance  at  which  a  sound  can  be 
heard.  The  low,  deep  tones  of  the  organ  fill  a  vast 
space,  though  they  would  not  be  heard  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. The  high,  shrill  notes  of  the  fife  can  be  heard  at 
a  great  distance,  yet  they  do  not  have  great  volume  of 
sound. 

Force  may,  for  convenience,  be  divided  into  Subdued, 
Moderate,  Energetic,  and  Impassioned. 

These  may  again  be  subdivided  at  pleasure. 

Perfect  command  of  force, in  all  its  divisions,  is  indis- 
pensable to  excellence  in  Reading  and  Speaking. 

To  acquire  this  power  the  voice  must  be  disciplined 
by  cultivation.  This  may  be  done  by  practicing  the 
elements,  words,  and  sentences  as  directed  in  the  follow- 
ing exercise.  Repeat  each  element  and  word  at  least  a 
dozen  times,  beginning  with  the  most  delicate  sound 
that  can  be  uttered  in  Pure  Tone,  and  gradually  increase 
the  force  until  the  utmost  power  of  the  voice  is  reached. 

In  this  exercise  be  very  careful  to  retain  the  same 
pitch  in  the  repetition  of  each  element. 


90  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

After  practicing  a  number  of  times  on  one  key  change 
the  pitch,  first  two  or  three  notes  higher,  and  then  two 
or  three  notes  lower. 

Exercises  of  this  kind  practiced  for  a  few  minutes 
daily  will,  in  a  short  time,  greatly  increase  the  power 
and  vigor  of  the  vocal  organs. 

The  scale  of  dots  indicates  to  the  eye  the  exercise 
described  above. 

Each  dot  represents  the  same  word  or  sound  repeated 
with  gradually  increasing  force.  The  repetition  of  the 
same  word  or  sound  is  preferred  to  a  change  of  elements, 
as  thereby  the  ear  will  more  readily  observe  the  diiferent 
degrees  of  force,  and  detect  any  change  in  pitch. 

FoECE — First  Exercise. 
Subdued,        Moderate,  Energetic. 


ft7  ##?  9  §  §  §  §9 

1.  a,  as  heard  in  ale,  aim. 


2.  a, 

(( 

add,  have. 

3.  e, 

(( 

eve,  mete. 

4.1, 

a 

ice,  fine. 

6.  6, 

4C 

old,  note. 

6.  u, 

cc 

use,  lute. 

7.  ti, 

(C 

us,  tub. 

FOEC 

E — Second  Exercise. 

Repeat  in  the  same  manner 

the  following  words. 

To 

lliese  may  be  added 

[  numerous 

others. 

Bar, 

car. 

mar,                ear, 

fear. 

hear. 

ore,                 lure. 

orb, 

arm. 

mire,               art, 

fare, 

dart, 

turn,               part. 

SUBDUED   FORCE.  9x 

SECTION  XIV. 
SUBDUED    FORCE. 

Subdued  is  that  degree  of  force  which  ranges  from 
the  slightest  sound  that  can  be  uttered  in  Pure  Tone  to 
the  milder  tones  of  ordinary  conversation. 

It  is  the  degree  of  force,  in  connection  with  the  Pure 
Tone,  Effusive  Form,  appropriate  for  the  expression  of 
pathetic^  solemn^  serious  and  tranquil  thought. 

Examples:  I.  Pathos. 

Subdued  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "  Burial  of  Arnold.'" —  Willis.'] 

Tread  lightl}^,  comrades ;  ye  have  laid 

His  dark  locks  on  his  brow; 
Like  life,  save  deeper  light  and  shade, 

We'll  not  disturb  them  now. 
Tread  lightly,  for  'tis  beautiful. 

That  blue-veined  eyehds'  sleep ; 
Hiding  the  eye  death  left  so  dull, 

Its  slumber  we  will  keep. 

II.  Solemnity. 

Subdued  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form, 

[From  "  Only  Waiting." — Anon."] 
Only  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  httle  longer  grown ; 
Only  waiting  till  the  glimmer 

Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown; 
Till  the  night  of  earth  is  faded 

From  the  heart  once  full  of  day; 
Till  the  stars  of  heaven  are  breaking 

Through  the  twilight  soft  and  gray. 

Only  waiting  till  the  reapers 

Have  the  last  sheaf  gathered  homej 
For  the  summer  time  is  faded. 

And  the  autumn  winds  have  come. 
Quickly,  reapers,  gather  quickly 

The  last  ripe  hours  of  my  heart, 
For  the  bloom  of  life  is  withered, 

And  I  hasten  to  depart. 


92  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

III.  Teanquillity. 

Subdued  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "The  Heart  of  the  Vfoxy—Anon.'] 

Peace  in  the  clover-sceuted  air, 

And  stars  within  the  dome, 
And  underneath,  in  dim  repose, 

A  plain  New  England  home. 
Within  a  murmur  of  low  tones 

And  sighs  from  hearts  oppressed, 
Merging  in  prayer  at  last,  that  brings 

The  balm  of  silent  rest. 

SECTION  XV. 
MODERATE   FORCE. 

Moderate  force  is  the  degree  of  intensity  heard  in  the 
ordinary  conversational  tones.  It  is  the  appropriate 
force,  combined  with  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form,  for 
the  utterance  of  narrative^  descriptive^  didactic  and  U7i- 
emotional  thought  ;  with  the  Orotund,  Effusive  Form,  for 
the  utterance  of  sublimity^  reverence  and  devotion ;  and 
with  the  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form,  for  the  introduction 
to  orations^  speeches  and  oratorical  ser7no?is. 

Examples  :  I.  I^aerative. 

Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Blacksmith  of  Eagenbach." — Anon.l 

In  the  principalitj  of  Hohenlohe,  now  a  part  of  the  kingdom  of 
Wirtemberg,  is  a  village  called  Ragenbach,  where,  about  twenty  years 
ago,  the  following  event  took  place :  One  afternoon  in  early  autumn, 
in  the  tavern-room  of  Ragenbach,  several  men  and  women,  assembled 
from  the  village,  sat  at  their  ease.  The  smith  formed  one  of  the 
merry  company  He  was  a  strong  man,  with  resolute  countenance 
and  daring  raieii,  but  with  such  a  good-natured  smile  on  his  lips  that 
every  one  who  saw  him  admired  him.  His  arms  were  like  bars  of 
iron,  and  his  fists  like  a  forge-hammer^  so  that  few  could  equal  him  ip 
Btrength  of  body. 


MODERATE  FORCE.  93 

II.  Descriptive. 

Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Cynic." — Beecher.'] 

The  Cynic  is  one  who  never  sees  a  good  quality  in  a  man,  and 
never  fails  to  see  a  bad  one.  He  is  the  human  owl,  vigilant  in  dark- 
less and  blind  to  light,  mousing  for  vermin,  and  never  seeing  noble 
game. 

The  Cynic  puts  all  human  actions  into  only  two  classes:  openly 
bad  and  secretly  bad.  All  virtue,  and  generosity,  and  disinterested- 
ness, are  merely  the  appearance  of  good,  but  selfish  at  the  bottom. 
TTo  holds  that  no  man  does  a  good  thing  except  for  profit.  The  effect 
of  his  conversation  upon  your  feelings  is  to  chill  and  sear  them ;  to 
send  you  away  sour  and  morose. 

III.  Didactic. 

Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "Talk  to  the  Point."] 

Talk  to  the  point,  and  stop  when  you  reach  it.  The  faculty 
which  some  possess  of  making  one  idea  cover  a  quire  of  paper  is 
despicable.  To  fill  a  volume  upon  nothing  is  a  credit  to  nobody, 
though  Chesterfield  wrote  a  very  clever  poem  upon  Nothing. 

There  are  men  who  get  one  idea  into  their  heads,  and  but  one, 
and  they  make  the  most  of  it.  You  can  see  it  and  almost  feel  it  in 
their  presence.  On  all  occasions  it  is  produced,  till  it  is  worn  as  thin 
as  charity.  They  remind  you  of  a  twenty-four  pounder  discharging 
at  a  humming-bird.  You  hear  a  tremendous  noise,  see  a  volume  of 
smoke,  but  you  look  in  vain  for  the  effects.  The  bird  is  scattered  to 
atoms. 

IV.  A:NriMATED  Thought. 

Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  The  Personality  and  Dses  of  a  Laugh." — Anon.] 

I  w  uald  be  willing  to  choose  my  friend  by  the  quality  of  his  laugh, 
and  abide  the  issue.  A  glad,  gushing  outflow,  a  clear,  ringing,  mel- 
low note  of  the  soul,  as  surely  indicates  a  genial  and  genuine  nature, 
as  the  rainbow  in  the  dew-drop  heralds  the  morning  sun,  or  the  frail 
flower  in  the  wilderness  betrays  the  zephyr-tossed  seed  of  the  par- 
terre. 


94  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

A  laugli  is  one  of  G-od's  truths.  It  tolerates  no  disguises  False- 
hood may  train  its  voice  to  flow  in  softest  cadences,  its  lips  to  wreathe 
into  smiles  of  surpassing  sweetness,  its  face 

"  to  put  on 
That  look  we  trust  in ; .  . ." 

but  its  laugh  will  betray  the  mockery.  "Who  has  not  started  and 
shuddered  at  the  hollow  "he-he-he I"  of  some  velvet- voiced  Mephis- 
topheles,  whose  sinuous  fascinations,  without  this  note  of  warning — 
this  premonitory  rattle — might  have  bound  the  soul  with  a  strong 
Bpelll 

V.  Sublimity,  Reverence  and  Devotion. 

Moderate  Force,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form, 
[From  "  God's  First  Temples."— jBrya^i^.] 

Father,  thy  hand 
Hath  reared  these  venerable  columns :  thou 
Did'st  weave  this  verdant  roof.     Thou  didst  look  down 
Upon  the  naked  earth,  and  forthwith  rose 
All  these  fair  ranks  of  trees.     They  in  thy  sun 
Budded,  and  shook  their  green  leaves  in  thy  breeze, 
And  shot  toward  heaven.     The  century-living  crow^ 
Whose. birth  was  in  their  tops,  grew  old  and  died 
Among  their  branches ;  till  at  last  they  stood, 
As  now  they  stand,  massy,  and  tall,  and  dark, 
Fit  shrine  for  humble  worshiper  to  hold 
Communion  with  his  Maker. 


VI.  Introduction  to  an  Oration. 

Moderate  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "Webster's  Speech  in  the  Senate,  Jan.  26, 1830,  in  reply  to  Hayne.] 

Mr.  President :  When  the  mariner  has  been  tossed  for  many  di»ja 
in  thick  weather,  and  on  an  unknown  sea,  he  naturally  avails  himself 
of  the  first  pause  in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the  sun,  to  take 
his  latitude,  and  ascertain  how  far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from 
his  true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence,  and  before  we  float 
farther,  refer  to  the  point  from  which  we  departed,  that  we  may  at 
least  be  able  to  conjecture  where  we  now  are.  I  ask  for  the  readinisf 
of  the  resolution. 


ENEKGETIC  FORCE.  95 

SECTION  XVJ. 
ENERGETIC   FORCE. 

Energetic  force  is  that  degree  of  intensity  heard  m 
earnest,  excited  conversation.  It  is  the  appropriate  force 
combined  with  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  and  Explosive 
Forms,  for  the  expression  of  Joy,  gladness^  mirth  ;  with 
the  Orotund,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms,  for  the 
delivery  of  senatorial^  political  and  judicial  speechesy 
orations  and  sermons  of  an  oratorical  character ;  with 
the  Orotund,  Effusive  Form,  for  the  utterance  of  pro^ 
found  sublimity y  grandeur^  and  adoration. 

Examples:  I.  Joy  and  Gladness. 

Energetic  Force^  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms. 
[From  "  Greeting  to  Friends  after  an  Absence." — Morris?^ 

I'm  with  you  once  again,  my  friends ; 

No  more  my  footsteps  roam ; 
Where  it  began  my  journey  ends, 

Amid  the  scenes  of  home. 
No  other  cHme  has  skies  so  blue, 

Or  streams  so  broad  and  clear ; 
And  where  are  hearts  so  warm  and  true 

As  those  that  meet  me  here  ? 

II.  Senatorial  Speech. 

Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms, 

[From  "Webster's  Eeply  to  Hayne."] 

Mr.  President,  I  shall  enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts- 
she  needs  none.  There  she  is — behold  her,  and  judge  for  yourselves. 
There  is  her  history — the  world  knows  it  by  heart.  Tho  past,  at 
least,  is  secure.  There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and 
Bunker  Hill — and  there  they  will  remain  forever.  The  bones  of  her 
sons,  fallen  in  the  great  struggle  for  independence,  now  lie  mingled 
with  the  soil  of  every  State  from  New  England  to  Grcorgia — and  there 
they  will  lie  forever.  And,  sir,  where  American  liberty  raised  its  first 
voice,  and  where  its  youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it  stiiJ 


96  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood,  and  full  of  its  original  spirit. 
If  discord  and  disunion  si  all  wound  it— if  party  strife  and  blinl  am- 
bition shall  hawk  at  and  tear  it — if  folly  and  madness,  if  uneasiness 
under  salutary  and  necessary  restraints,  shall  succeed  to  sepaiate  it 
from  that  Union  by  which  alone  its  existence  is  made  sure — il  will 
stand  in  the  end  by  the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy  was 
rocked;  it  will  stretch  forth  its  arm,  with  whatever  vigoi  it  may.  still 
retain,  over  the  friends  who  gather  round  it ;  and  it  will  fall  at  last, 
if  fall  it  must,  amid  the  proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory,  and  ou 
the  very  spot  of  its  origin  I 

III.  Oration. 

Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  anh  Explosive  Forms. 
[From  "  Washington."] 

It  matters  very  little  what  immediate  spot  may  have  been  the 
birthplace  of  such  a  man  as  Y.^ashington.  No  people  can  claim,  no 
country  appropriate  him.  The  boon  of  Providence  to  the  human 
race — his  fame  is  eternity,  and  his  residence  creation.  Though  it  was 
the  defeat  of  our  arms,  and  the  disgrace  of  our  policy,  I  almost  bless 
the  convulsion  in  which  he  had  his  origin.  If  the  heavens  thundered, 
and  the  earth  rocked,  yet,  when  the  storm  had  passed,  how  pure  was 
the  climate  that  it  cleared !  How  bright  in  the  brow  of  the  firma- 
ment was  the  planet  which  it  revealed  to  us  I  In  the  production  of 
Washington  it  does  really  appear  as  if  nature  was  endeavoring  to  im- 
prove upon  herself,  and  that  all  the  virtues  of  the  ancient  world  were 
but  so  many  studies  preparatory  to  the  patriot  of  the  new. 

Individual  instances,  no  doubt,  there  were — splendid  exemplificf-- 
tions  of  some  single  qualification.  Cassar  was  merciful,  Scipio  was 
continent,  Hannibal  was  patient;  but  it  was' reserved  for  Washiugtou 
to  blend  them  all  in  one,  and,  like  the  lovely  masterpiece  of  the  Gre- 
cian artist,  to  exhibit,  in  one  glow  of  associated  beauty,  the  pride  ol 
every  model,  and  the  perfection  of  every  master. 

IV.  Oratorical  Sermon. 

Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms, 

[From  "  Living  to  God." — Griffin,'] 

My  brethren,  let  us  no  longer  live  to  ourselves.  Let  us  arise  and 
put  our  hands  to  the  great  work  in  which  the  nations  are  now  moving. 
Wondrous  things  are  taking  place  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe. 
The  world  le  waking  up  afi;er  a  long  sleep,  and  is  teeming  with 


IMPASSIONED   FORCE.  97 

projects  and  efforts  to  extend  the  empire  of  truth  and  happiness. 
This  is  the  day  of  which  the  prophets  sung.  Let  us  not  sleep,  while 
all  others  are  rousing  themselves  to  action.  Let  every  soul  come  up 
to  the  help  of  the  Lord.  Let  not  one  be  left  behind.  He  that  has 
absolutely  nothing  to  give,  let  him  pray.  Let  no  one  be  idle.  This 
is  a  great  day,  and  the  Lord  requires  every  hand  in  the  work. 


SECTION  XVII. 
IMPASSIONED  FORCE. 

Impassioned  force  is  the  degree  of  intensity  heard  in 
the  expression  of  violent  and  impetuous  emotion.  Com- 
bined with  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  and  Expulsive  Forms, 
Impassioned  is  the  degree  of  force  appropriate  for  call- 
ing and  commanding  ;  with  Pure  Tone,  Explosive 
Form,  the  expression  of  ecstatic  joy  and  gladness.  With 
the  Orotund,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms,  it  is  em- 
ployed in  the  utterance  of  rousing  and  exciting  appeals  / 
with  the  Aspirate^  Pectoral  and  Guttural,  Expulsive  and 
Explosive,  in  the  expression  of  anger^  threatening^  scorn^ 
defiance^  revenge^  etc. 

Examples  ;  I.  Calling. 

Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 

[From  The  Herald's  Call,  "King  John:''— ShakspeareJ] 

Rejoice,  ye  men  of  Anglers  I     Ring  your  bells: 
King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach. 
Open  your  gates,  and  give  the  victors  way  I 

II.  Commanding. 

Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form, 
[From  "Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade."— jTmwyson.] 

Forward,  the  Light  Brigade, 

Charge  for  the  guns  I 
1 


98  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

III.  Ecstatic  Joy. 

Impassion^id  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms* 
[From  "The  Life  Bo&V—Anon.l 

Hurrah !  the  hfe-boat  dashes  on, 

Though  darkly  the  reef  may  frown ; 
The  rock  is  there,  the  ship  is  gone 

Full  twenty  fathoms  down. 
But  cheered  by  hope,  the  seamen  cope 

"With  the  billows  single-handed : 
They  are  all  in  the  boat.     Hurrah!  they're  afloat! 

And  now  they  are  safely  landed 

By  the  life-boat !     Cheer  the  hfe-boat  I 

lY.  RousiKG  AND  Exciting  Appeal. 

Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms. 
[From  "  Spartacus  to  the  Gladiators." — Kellogg.'] 

Ye  stand  here  now  like  giants,  as  ye  are  I  The  strength  of  brass 
is  in  your  toughened  sinews ;  but  to-morrow  some  Roman  Adonis, 
breathing  sweet  perfume  from  his  curly  locks,  shall  with  his  lily  fin- 
gers pat  your  red  brawn,  and  bet  his  sesterces  upon  your  blood. 
Hark !  hear  ye  yon  lion  roaring  in  his  den  ?  'Tis  three  days  since  he 
has  tasted  flesh ;  but  to-morrow  he  shall  break  his  fast  upon  yours, 
and  a  dainty  meal  for  him  ye  will  be.  If  ye  are  beasts,  then  stand 
here  like  fat  oxen  waiting  for  the  butcher's  knife.  If  ye  are  men, 
follow  me.  Strike  down  yon  guard,  gain  the  mountain  pa>5ses,  and 
then  do  bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires  at  old  Thermopylae !  Is  Sparta 
dead  ?  Is  the  old  Grecian  spirit  frozen  in  your  veins,  that  you  do 
crouch  and  cower  like  a  belabored  hound  beneath  his  master's  lash  ? 
0  comrades  I  warriors  1  Thracians !  if  we  must  fight,  let  us  fight  for 
ourselves!  If  we  must  slaughter,  let  us  slaughter  our  oppressors! 
If  we  must  die,  let  it  be  under  the  clear  sky,  by  the  bright  waters,  id 
noble,  honorable  battle  I 

V.  Anger,  Scorn,  Defiance. 

Impassioned  Force,  Aspirate,  Pectoral  and  Guttural  Qualities,  Expulsivt 

and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  "  The  Seminole's  Defiance.»^ 

Blaze  with  your  serried  columns !  I  will  not  bend  the  knee  ; 
The  shackle  ne'er  again  shall  bind  tho  arm  which  now  is  free ! 


STKESS.  99 

Fve  mailed  it  with  the  thunder  when  the  tempest  muttered  loWj 
And  where  it  falls  ye  well  may  dread  the  lightning  of  its  blow. 
I've  scared  you  in  the  city ;  I've  scalped  you  on  the  plain ; 
Gro,  count  your  chosen  where  they  fell  beneath  my  leaden  rain  1 
I  scorn  your  proffered  treaty ;  the  pale  face  I  defy ; 
Revenge  is  stamped  upon  my  spear,  and  "  blood"  my  battle-cry  I 

Perfect  command  of  every  degree  of  force  enables  tbe 
public  speaker  to  readily  adapt  his  tones  to  tbe  senti- 
ment he  expresses,  and  to  the  circumstances  by  which 
he  is  surrounded. 

Expressing  pathos,  his  voice- easily  drops  to  subdued 
force ;  uttering  bold  and  mousing  thought,  it  as  readily 
rises  to  impassioned  force  ;  in  the  delivery  of  didactic 
thought,  it  is  pleasingly  modulated  to  moderate  force ; 
speaking  in  a  small  room,  the  degree  of  force  is  so  regu- 
lated as  not  to  be  painful  to  the  hearers  ;  addressing  a 
vast  assembly  in  the  open  air,  the  voice  is  perfectly 
audible  to  the  most  distant  hearer ;  speaking  under  the 
influence  of  strong  excitement,  the  intensity  of  his  feel- 
ings does  not  hinder  his  utterance,  nor  drive  him  into 
ranting  and  vociferation. 

Such  are  some  of  the  advantages  of  perfect  command 
of  Force  of  Voice. 

Exercises  similar  to  the  above  not  only  give  vigor  and 
pliancy  to  the  vocal  organs,  but  are  invaluable  aids  to 
health,  cheerfulness,  and  mental  activity. 

SECTION  XVIII. 
STRESS. 

Stress  is  the  application  of  the  force  of  the  voice  to 
the  diiferent  parts  of  the  word  or  sound. 

The  divisions  of  stress  are  Radical,  Median,  Final, 
Compound,  Thorough,  and  Intermittent. 


100  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

SECTION  XIX. 
RADICAL   STRESS. 

Radical  stress  is  the  application  of  the  force  of  the 
voice  to  the  first  part  of  the  word  or  sound.  "  The 
clear  and  forcible  radical  stress  can  take  place  only  after 
an  interruption  of  the  voice." 

"  It  would  seem  as  if  there  is  some  momentary  occlu- 
sion in  the  larynx,  by  which  the  breath  is  barred  and 
accumulated  for  the  purpose  of  a  full  and  sudden  dis- 
charge. This  occlusion  is  most  under  command,  and  the 
explosion  is  most  powerful,  on  syllables  beginning  with 
a  tonic  element,  or  with  an  abrupt  one  preceding  a 
tonic,  for  in  this  last  case  an  obstruction  in  the  organs 
of  articulation  is  combined  with  the  function  of  the 
larynx." 

To  acquire  control  of  this  style  of  stress  practice  the 
following  elements  and  words  in  the  Expulsive  and  Ex- 
plosive Forms,  first  with  Pure  Tone,  then  with  Orotund, 
in  the  Moderate,  Energetic  and  Impassioned  degree  of 
Force. 

In  this  exercise  be  careful  to  expend  the  full  force  of 
the  voice  upon  the  first  part  of  the  word  or  sound. 


Radical  Stress- 

-First  Exercise, 

1.  a,  as 

heard 

in  add,  fat. 

2.  e. 

cc 

end,  met. 

3.  i, 

ill,  fin. 

4.  6, 

odd,  not. 

5.  ii, 

us,  tub. 

6.  y, 

nymph,  lyric. 

7.  a, 

ale,  fate. 

8.  6, 

eve,  mete. 

9.1, 

ice,  fine. 

RADICAL  STRESS.  101 

Radical  Steess — Second  lExii'Kci:^E-        ^  * ' 


Add, 

end, 

orb. 

all. 

ease, 

isle. 

inch, 

use, 

oil, 

up, 

on, 

aid, 

entire, 

obey. 

end. 

bend, 

think. 

live, 

defy. 

blaze, 

rouse. 

down. 

slave. 

round. 

The  radical  stress  is  heard  in  various  degrees.  In 
its  milder  form  it  is  the  stress  appropriate  for  the  de- 
livery of  narrative^  descriptive  and  didactic  thought  in 
the  style  of  essays^  lectures  and  sermons  ;  in  a  more  en- 
ergetic form  it  is  appropriate  for  the  utterance  of  argur 
mentative  speeches  and  orations ;  and  in  its  most  im- 
passioned form  for  the  expression  of  i?itense  feeling  and 
emotion^  as  anger^  scorn^  defiance^  etc. 

Examples  :  I.  N^arrative. 

Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form, 
[From  "  The  Heart's  Charity." — Eliza  Cook.'] 
A  ricli  man  walked  abroad  one  day, 
And  a  poor  man  walked  the  self-same  way, 
Y7hen  a  pale  and  starving  face  came  by, 
With  a  pallid  lip  and  a  hopeless  eye ; 
And  that  starving  face  presumed  to  stand 
And  ask  for  bread  from  the  rich  man's  hand. 
But  the  rich  man  sullenly  looked  askance, 
With  a  gathering  frown  and  a  doubtful  glance ; 
"  I  have  nothing,"  said  he,  "to  give  to  you, 
Nor  any  such  rogue  of  a  canting  crew ;" 
And  he  fastened  his  pocket,  and  on  he  went, 
With  his  soul  untouched  and  his  conscience  content. 

II.  Didactic. 

Radical  StresSj  Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form, 
[From  "  Advice  to  a  Young  Lawyer." — Judge  Story.'] 
Whene'er  you  speak,  remember  every  cause 
Stands  not  on  eloquence,  but  stands  on  laws; 


102  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

rr<3g^iaat  in  matter,  in  expression  brief, 

Let  every  sentence  stand  with  bold  relief; 

On  trifling  points  nor  time  nor  talents  waste, 

A  sad  offense  to  learning  and  to  taste ; 

Nor  deal  with  pompous  phrase,  nor  e'er  suppose  • 

Poetic  flights  belong  to  reasoning  prose. 

in.  Argumentatiye  Speech. 

Radical  Stress,  Energetic  Force^  Orotund,  Expulsive  Fo7'm. 
[From  "Barbarity  of  National  Hatreds/'—i^w/ws  Choate.'] 

Mr.  President,  let  me  say  that,  in  my  judgment,  this  notion  of  a 
national  enmity  of  feeling  toward  G-reat  Britain  belongs  to  a  past  age 
of  our  history.  My  younger  countrymen  are  unconscious  of  it.  They 
disavow  it.  That  generation  in  whose  opinions  and  feelings  the  ac- 
tions and  the  destiny  of  the  next  are  unfolded,  as  the  tree  in  the 
germ,  do  not  at  all  comprehend  your  meaning,  nor  your  fears,  nor 
your  regrets.  "We  are  born  to  happier  feeling-s.  We  look  to  England 
as  we  look  to  France.  We  look  to  them  from  our  new  world — not 
unrenowned,  yet  a  new  world  still — and  the  blood  mounts  to  our 
cheeks,  our  eyes  swim,  our  voices  are  stifled,  with  emulousness  of  so 
much  glory;  their  trophies  will  not  let  us  sleep;  but  there  is  no 
hatred  at  all ;  no  hatred,  no  barbarian  memory  of  wrongs,  for  which 
brave  men  have  made  the  last  expiation  to  the  brave. 

lY.  Anger,  Scoen  and  Defiance. 

Badical  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Aspirate,  Orotund,  Guttural  Quality, 

Explosive  Form. 

[From  "  Paradise  LosV—dfilton.'] 

Whence  and  what  art  thou,  execrable  shape  I 
That  dar'st,  though  grim  and  terrible,  advance 
Thy  miscreated  front  athwart  my  way 
To  yonder  gates  ?     Through  them  I  mean  to  pass, 
That  be  assured,  without  leave  asked  of  thee : 
Retire  I  or  taste  thy  folly,  and  learn  by  proof. 
Hell-born,  Tiot  to  contend  with  spirits  of  heaven. 

Radical  stress  is  one  of  the  most  important  properties 
of  utterance.  Without  it  reading  and  speaking  become 
dull  and  lifeless. 


MEDIAN  STRESS.  103 

The  argumentative  speaker  wlio  has  not  this  property 
at  command  fails  to  produce  conviction  in  the  minds  of 
his  hearers. 

Dr.  Rush  says  of  the  Radical  Stress:  "It  is  this 
which  draws  the  cutting  edge  of  words  across  the  ear, 
and  startles  even  stupor  into  attention ;  this  which  les  • 
sens  the  fatigue  of  listening,  and  outvoices  the  stir  and 
rustle  of  an  assembly." 

Murdoch  and  Russell  say :  "  The  utter  absence  of 
radical  stress  bespeaks  timidity  and  indecision,  confu- 
sion of  thought,  and  feebleness  of  purpose. 

"  The  speaker  who  fails  in  regard  to  the  effect  of  this 
property  of  utterance  solicits  our  pity  rather  than  com- 
mands our  respect.  The  right  degree  of  this  function 
indicates  the  manly,  self-possessed  speaker." 

SECTION  XX. 
MEDIAN    STRESS. 

Median  stress  is  the  application  of  the  force  of  the 
voice  to  the  middle  of  the  word  or  sound. 

It  is  a  gradual  increase  of  force  and  elevation  of  pitch 
through  the  concrete  movement  to  the  middle  of  the 
word,  and  then  as  gradual  a  diminution  and  lowering  to 
the  close.  Median  stress  is  generally  heard  in  connec- 
tion with  the  effusive  form. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  style  of  stress  practice  the 
following  elements  and  words,  beginning  each  with  very 
subdued  force  and  low  pitch,  which  gradually  increase 
and  elevate  to  the  middle,  and  then  as  gradually  dimin- 
ish and  lower. 

Median  Stress — First  Exercise. 

1.  a,  as  heard  in  ale,  fate. 

2.  a,  "  arm,  far. 


104  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 


3. 

a. 

as  heard 

■  in  ask,  grass. 

4. 

a, 

u 

all,  talk. 

5. 

^) 

u 

old,  note. 

6. 

00 

moon,  food. 

Median  Stress- 

-Second  Exercise. 

Gray, 

tolls. 

day. 

softly, 

old, 

arm. 

father. 

palm. 

oh, 

more. 

roll. 

round, 

beams, 

prayer, 

slow. 

tread, 

full, 

fled. 

pure, 

snow. 

Median  is  the  appropriate  stress  for  the  utterance  of 
pathos,  solemnity^  sublimity,  reverence,  grandeur  and 
devotion. 

It  is  heard  in  different  degrees,  varying  with  the  depth 
and  power  of  the  emotion. 

Serious,  solemn  and  tranquil  thought  require  only  the 
milder  forms  of  the  Median ;  while  reverence,  grandeur, 
sublimity  and  devotion  require  the  fullest  form. 

Examples  :  I.  Tranquillity. 

Median  Stress^  Subdued  Force^  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  Evening." — Movr.'] 

'Tis  twilight  now : 
How  deep  is  the  tranquillity  1     The  trees 
Are  slumbering  through  their  multitude  of  boughs, 
Even  to  the  leaflet  on  the  frailest  twig ! 
A  twilight  gloom  pervades  the  distant  hills, 
An  azure  softness  mingling  with  the  sky. 

II.  Solemnity 
Median  Stress,  Subdued  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  Death." — Mrs.  HemansJ] 
Leaves  have  their  time  to  fall, 

And  flowers  to  wither  at  the  north  wind's  breath, 
And  stars  to  set ;  but  all, 

Thou  hast  all  seasons  for  thine  own,  0  Death! 


MEDIAN  STRESS.  105 

"We  know  when  moons  shall  wane, 

When  summer  birds  from  far  shall  cross  the  sea, 
When  autumn's  hue  shall  tinge  the  golden  grain: 

But  who  shall  teach  us  when  to  look  for  thee  ? 


III.  Sublimity  and  Grandeur. 

Median  Stress,  Moderate  and  Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form, 
[From  "  Ossian's  Address  to  the  Sun."" — Macpherson.'] 

0  thou  that  roUest  above,  round  as  the  shield  of  my  fathers  1 
whence  are  thy  beams,  0  sun !  thy  everlasting  light  1  Thou  comest 
forth  in  thy  awful  beauty:  the  stars  hide  themselves  in  the  sky;  the 
moon,  cold  and  pale,  sinks  in  the  western  wave.  But  thou  thyself 
movest  alone :  who  can  be  a  companion  of  thy  course  ? 

The  oaks  of  the  mountain  fall;  the  mountains  themselves  decay 
with  years ;  the  ocean  sinks  and  grows  again ;  the  moon  herself  is 
lost  in  the  heavens ;  but  thou  art  forever  the  same,  rejoicing  in  the 
brightness  of  thy  course. 

When  the  world  is  dark  with  tempests,  when  thunders  roll,  and 
lightnings  fly,  thou  lookest  in  thy  beauty  from  the  clouds,  and  laugh- 
est  at  the  storm. 

But  to  Ossian  thou  lookest  in  vain ;  for  he  beholds  thy  beams  no 
more,  whether  thy  yellow  hair  floats  on  the  eastern  clouds,  or  thou 
tremblest  at  the  gates  of  the  west.  But  thou  art,  perhaps,  like  me, 
for  a  season :  thy  years  will  have  an  end.  Thou  wilt  sleep  in  thy 
clouds  careless  of  the  voice  of  the  morning. 

lY.  Reverence  and  Adoration. 

Median  Stress,  Moderatt  and  Eui7'getic  Force,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form, 

[From  "  Morning  Hymn  in  Paradise." — Milton  Ji 

These  are  thy  glorious  works,  Parent  of  Good, 

Almighty  I     Thine  this  universal  frame, 

Thus  wondrous  fair.     Thyself  how  wondrous  then  I 

Unspeakable  I  who  sitt'st  above  these  heavens. 

To  us  invisible  or  dimly  seen, 

'Midst  these  thy  lowest  works. 

Yet  these  declare  thy  goodness  beyond  thought 

And  power  divine  I 


106  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

The  median  stress  is  one  of  the  greatest  beauties  in 
reading. 

It  prevents  the  drawling  and  lifeless  style  so  prevalent 
in  the  reading  of  the  Bible  and  the  Church  service,  and 
gives  a  most  impressive  beauty,  power  and  grandeur  to 
the  utterance  of  pathos^  suhlirnity^  reverence^  devotion 
and  adoration. 

Destitute  of  its  ennobling  effect,  the  reading  of  many 
passages  in  prose  and  poetry  sinks  into  a  monotonous 
and  tedious  utterance. 

It  is  indispensable  to  the  highest  success  in  Elocution. 
Carried  to  excess  it  becomes  a  fault.  The  habit  of 
mouthing,  so  prevalent  on  the  stage  among  stock  actors, 
has  for  one  of  its  principal  elements  an  excessive  median 
stress.  Like  every  element  of  utterance,  it  must  be  ju- 
diciously used. 

SECTION  XXI. 

FINAL     STRESS. 

The  final  stress  is  the  application  of  the  force  of  the 
voice  to  the  last  part  of  the  word  or  sound. 

The  force,  at  first  but  slight,  is  gradually  increased, 
until  it  closes  in  an  abrupt  and  violent  sound.  In  its 
effect  on  the  ear  it  is  not  unlike  the  report  of  a  pistol 
when  it  hangs  fire. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  style  of  stress  practice  the 
elements  and  words  as  directed.  Repeat  each  of  the 
elements,  beginning  with  a  slight  sound,  which  gradually 
increase,  and  closo-  with  an  abrupt  and  forcible  sound. 

Final  Stress — First  Exercise. 

1.  e,  as  heard  in  me,  see. 

2.  a,  "  ale,  pale. 

3.  a,  "  air,  fair. 

4.  a,  "  father,  arm. 


FINAL  STRESS. 

6.  a,  as  heard  in  ask,  grass. 
6.  I,  "  ice,  fine. 

1.  %  "  use,  tube. 

Final  Stress — Second  Exercise. 


107 


Slave, 

wretch, 

coward, 

great, 

villainy. 

revenge. 

hatred. 

defiance, 

birth. 

sorrows. 

beasts. 

•slaves, 

extreme, 

rights. 

bid. 

push. 

determined, 

proceed. 

fortune, 

friends. 

barren, 

rugged, 

rock. 

refuge. 

Tlie  iSnal  stress  is  employed  in  the  expression  of  de- 
terminsd  purijose^  earnest  resolve^  stern  rebuke^  contempt^ 
astonishment^  horror^  revenge^  hate^  and  similar  passions. 

It  is  usuaHy  combined  with  the  ExpulsiA^e  and  Explo- 
sive Forms  of  Voice,  and;  in  the  expression  of  passion, 
with  the  Aspirate,  Pectoral,  or  Guttural  Qualities. 


Examples  :   I.  Earnest  Resolve. 

Final  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "  Supposed  Speech  of  John  Adams." —  Webster. '] 

Sir,  before  G-od,  I  believe  the  liour  is  come.  My  judgment  approves 
this  measure,  and  my  whole  heart  is  in  it.  All  that  I  have,  and  all 
that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  hope  in  this  life,  I  am  now  ready  here  to 
stake  upon  it ;  and  I  leave  off  as  I  began,  that,  live  or  die,  survive  or 
perish,  I  am  for  the  declaration.  It  is  my  living  sentiment,  and,  by 
the  blessing  of  G-od,  it  shall  be  my  dying  sentiment ;  independence 
now,  and  independence  forever. 

II.  Determined  Purpose. 

Final  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Orotund  Aspirate  Quality,  Expulsive 

and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  "Speech  on  Writs  of  Assistance."— 6>^i«.] 

Let  the  consequences  be  what  they  may,  I  ^  determined  to  pro- 
ceed.    The  only  principles  of  public  conduct  that  are  worthy  of  a 


108  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

gentleman  or  a  m^  are  to  sacrifice  ease,  estate,  health,  happiness, 
and  even  hfe  itself,  at  the  sacred  caU  of  his  country. 

III.   Stern  Rebuke. 

Final  Stress,  Impassioned  Force^  Orotund  Pectoral  Qualilnj    Expulsive 
and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  "Speech  against  American  War." — Chatham.'] 

I  cannot,  my  lords,  I  will  not,  join  in  congratulation  on  misfortune 
and  disgrace.  This,  my  lords,  is  a  perilous  and  tremendous  moment. 
It  is  not  a  time  for  adulation ;  the  smoothness  of  flattery  cannot  save 
us  in  this  rugged  and  awful  crisis.  It  is  now  necessary  to  instruct 
the  throne  in  the  language  of  truth.  We  must,  if  possible,  dispel  the 
delusion  and  darkness  which  enveloj  it,  and  display,  in  its  full  dan- 
ger and  genuine  colors,  the  ruin  which  is  brought  to  our  doors.  Can 
ministers  still  presume  to  expect  support  in  their  infatuation  ?  Can 
Parliament  be  so  dead  to  its  dignity  and  duty  as  to  give  their  support 
to  measures  thus  obtruded  and  forced  upon  them?  Measures,  my 
lords,  which  have  reduced  this  late  flourishing  empire  to  scorn  and 
contempt  1 

IV.  Mockery,  Contempt  and  Scokn. 

Final  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,   Orotund  Pectoral  Guttural  Quality^ 

Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  Queen  Constance  to  the  Archduke  of  Austria. — Shakspeare.] 

Thou  slave  1  thou  wretch  1  thou  coward  1 
Thou  little  valiant,  great  in  villainy  ! 
Thou  ever  strong  upon  the  stronger  side  1 
Thou  Fortune's  champion,  that  dost  never  fight 
But  when  her  humorous  ladyship  is  by 
To  teach  thee  safety  1 

Y.  Deteemusted  Stubboen  Will. 

Final  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Pectoral  and  Guttural  Qualities,  Expul- 
sive and  Explosive  Forms. 
[From  Shylock's  'Refn&sH.—Shakspeare.'] 

I'll  have  my  bond ;  I  will  not  hear  thee  speak : 
I'll  have  my  bond ;  and  therefore  speak  no  more. 
I'll  not  b§  made  a  soft  and  dull-eyed  fool, 
To  shake  the  head,  relent,  and  sigh,  and  yield 


COMPOUND  STRESS.  109 

To  Christian  intercessors.     Follow  not ; 

I'll  have  no  speaking  1     I  will  have  my  bond. 


Without  the  full  command  of  the  Final  Stress,  deter- 
mined purpose,  earnest  resolve,  manly  protest,  degener- 
rates  into  childish  and  angry  utterance,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  scorn,  revenge,  and  contempt  sink  to  the 
ridiculous  tones  of  the  shrew.  In  the  delivery  of  lyric 
and  dramatic  poetry,  in  which  high-wrought  emotion  is 
so  frequently  found,  the  Final  Stress  is  an  indispensable 
element  of  utterance. 

SECTION  XXII. 
COMPOUND    STRESS. 

Compound  stress  is  the  application  of  the  force  to  the 
first  and  last  parts  of  the  word,,  passing  over  the  inter- 
mediate parts  lightly. 

Command  of  this  style  of  stress  can  be  best  acquired 
by  practicing  words  and  sentences. 

Compound  Stress — Exercise. 
Gone,  heaven,  married,  dead, 

survive,      despise,  literary,  gospel, 

sermons,     people,  earnest,  history, 

canopy,       traitor,  tribune,  convicted. 

The  compound  is  the  stress  appropriate  for  the  ex- 
pression of  surprise^  contempt^  and  mockery^  and  some- 
times of  sarcasm  and  raillery. 

Examples  :  I.  Extreme  Surprise. 

Compotmd  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Aspirate  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Farm, 

[From  "  Hamlet." — STiakspeare.'] 

Ham.  A  bloody  deed ;  almost  as  bad,  good  mother, 

As  kill  a  king,  and  marry  with  his  brother. 
Queen.  As  kill  a  king  ? 


110  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

IL  Extreme  Surpkise. 

Compound  Stress^  Impassioned  Force,  Aspirate  Pure  Tone^  Expulsivt 
Form, 

[From  Queen  Constance,  when  confounded  with  the  intelligence  of  the  union  ot 
Lewis  and  Blanche,  and  the  consequent  injury  to  her  son  Arthur. — Sliakspeare.l 

Gone  to  be  married  1     Gone  to  swear  a  peace  ! 
Ealse  blood  to  false  blood  joined !     Gone  to  be  friends  I 
Shall  Lewis  have  Blanche,  and  Blanche  these  provinces? 
It  is  not  so;  thou  hast  misspoke,  misheard; 
Be  well  advised,  tell  o'er  thy  tale  again : 
It  cannot  be ;  thou  dost  but  say  'tis  so. 

in.  Contempt  and  Mockery. 

Compound  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Aspirate  Pectoral  Orotund,  Explo- 
sive Form. 
[From  "  Cataline's  Defiance." — Croly."] 

Banished  from  Romel     What's  banished,  but  set  free 
Erom  daily  contact  of  the  things  I  loathe  ? 
"  Tried  and  convicted  traitor  I  " 

The  compound  stress  gives  intensity  and  energy  to 
the  utterance  of  surprise^  contempt  and  mockery  most 
impressive  in  its  effect.  "  The  use  of  this  form  of  stress 
belongs  appropriately  to  feelings  of  peculiar  force  or 
acuteness ;  but  on  this  very  account  it  becomes  an  in- 
dispensable means  of  natural  expression  and  true  effect 
in  many  passages  of  reading  and  speaking.  The  differ- 
ence between  vivid  and  dull  or  flat  utterance  will  often 
turn  on  the  exactness  with  which  this  expressive  func- 
tion of  voice  is  exerted." 


SECTION  xxin. 

THOROUGH   STRESS. 

Thorough  stress  is  the  application  of  the  force  of  the 
voice  equally  to  all  parts  of  the  word  or  sound. 


THOROUGH  STRESS.  Ill 

To  acquire  control  of  this  element  of  expression  prac* 
tice  the  elements  and  words  with  all  the  force  you  can 
command  in  the  Orotund  Expulsive. 

Thorough  Stress — First  Exercise. 
1.  o,  as  heard  in  no,  go. 


2.  a, 

(C 

ale, 

pale. 

3.  a, 

u 

arm. 

,  farm. 

,     4.  1, 

C( 

ice, 

fine 

Thorough  Stress- 

-Second  Exercise. 

Ale,              arm. 

home, 

come, 

lend,            send. 

grave, 

death, 

call,             fall. 

all. 

lawn, 

seize,           spirits. 

fallen. 

woe, 

awake,        arise, 

shout, 

burn. 

The  thorough  stress  is  appropriately  employed  in  the 
expression  of  rapture,  joy,  exultation,  lofty  command, 
indignant  emotion,  oratorical  apostrophe,  and  virtuous 
indignation. 

Examples  :  I.  Triumph  and  Exultation. 

Thorough  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Orotund  Quality,  Expidsive  Form, 

[From  "  Sheridan's  Eide."— T.  S.  Bead.] 

Hurrah !  hurrah  for  Sheridan ! 

Hurrah !  hurrah  for  horse  and  man ! 

And  when  their  statues  are  placed  on  high, 

Under  the  dome  of  the  Union  sky, 

The  American  soldiers'  Temple  of  Fame, 

There  with  the  glorious  General's  name 

Be  it  said,  in  letters  both  bold  and  bright : 

"  Here  is  the  steed  that  saved  the  day 
By  carrying  Sheridan  into  the  fight, 

Prom  Winchester — twenty  mites  away  I " 


112  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

II.  Lofty  Command. 

Thorough  St? -ess,  Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "Paradise  Lost." — Milton.] 

Princes!  potentates! 
Warriors,  the  flower  of  heaven !  once  yours,  now  lost, 
If  such  astonishment  as  this  can  seize 
Eternal  spirits, 
Awake !  arise !  or  be  forever  fallen  I 

III.  Oeatorical  Aposteophe. 

Thorough  Stress^  Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  Form. 

0  liberty  I  0  sound  once  delightful  to  every  Roman  ear  I  0  sacred 
privilege  of  Roman  citizenship!  once  sacred,  now  trampled  upon! 
But  what  then — is  it  come  to  this  ?  Shall  an  inferior  magistrate,  a 
governor,  who  holds  his  power  of  the  Roman  people,  in  a  Roman 
province,  within  sight  of  Italy,  bind,  scourge,  torture  with  fire  and 
^  red- hot  plates  of  iron,  and  at  last  put  to  the  infamous  death  of  the 
cross,  a  Roman  citizen  ?  Shall  neither  the  cries  of  innocence  expiring 
in  agony,  nor  the  tears  of  pitying  spectators,  nor  the  majesty  of  the 
Roman  commonwealth,  nor  the  fear  of  the  justice  of  his  country,  re- 
strain the  licentious  and  wanton  cruelty  of  a  monster,  who,  in  confi- 
dence of  his  riches,  strikes  at  the  root  of  liberty  and  sets  mankind  at 
defiance  ? 

IV.  Vehement  Indignation. 

Thorough  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  and  Explosive 

Forms. 

[From  "Eebuke  of  Lord  8vLf^ol\:''-^Chatham.'} 

These  abominable  principles,  and  this  more  abominable  avowal  of 

them,  demand  the  most  decisive  indignation.     I  call  upon  that  right 

reverend  and  this  most  learned  bench  to  vindicate  the  religion  of  their 

Grod,  to  defend  and  support  the  justice  of  their  country.    I  call  upon 

the  bishops  to  interpose  the  unsullied  sanctity  of  their  lawn,  upon  the 

judges  to  interpose  the  purity  of  their  ermine,  to  save  us  from  this 

pollution.     I  call  upon  the  honor  of  your  lordships  to  reverence  the 

dignity  of  your  ancestors,  and  to  maintain  your  own.     I  call  upon  the 

spirit  and  humanity  of  my  country  to  vindicate  the  national  character. 

Thorough  stress  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  weapons 
of  oratory.     Its  effect,  when  judiciously  used,  is  magical 


INTERMITTENT  STRESS.  11 S 

It  rouses  the  feelings,  kindles  the  emotions,  and  stirs  the 
very  soul  of  an  audience.  If  employed  injudiciously  and 
too  frequently  it  degenerates  into  rant  and  vociferation, 
exciting  only  disgust  and  contempt  in  the  mind  of  every 
cultivated  hearer. 

SECTION  XXTV 

INTERMITTENT    STRESS. 

The  intermittent  stress  is  a  tremulous  emission  of  the 
voice  from  the  organs. 

To  acquire  control  of  this  style  of  stress  practice  the 
elements  and  words  with  a  short,  quick,  broken  ut- 
terance. 

Intermittent  Stress — First  Exercise. 

1.  e,  as  heard  in  me,  see. 

2.  a,  "  ale,  pale. 

3.  a,  "  add,  sad. 

4.  a,  "  talk,  all. 

5.  o,  "  old,  bold. 

6.  o,  "  odd,  not. 

Intermittent  Stress — Second  Exercise. 


O! 

die, 

food. 

go, 

old, 

man. 

door. 

your. 

days, 

down. 

store. 

lost, 

gone. 

blow. 

hold. 

grave. 

The  intermittent  stress  is  the  natural  expression  of  al 
emotions  attended  with  a  weakened  condition  of  the 
bodily  organs,  such  as  feebleness  from  age^  exhaustion, 
fatigue,  sickness  and  grief 

It  is  also  appropriate  in  the  expression  of  extreme  ten 
-ierness  and  ecstatic  joy. 

8 


114  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


Examples  :  I.  Sickness. 

Tntermittef^t   Stt'ess,   Subdued  Force,   Oral,   Aspirate    Quality,   Effmivi 

Form. 

[From  "Death  of  Little  Jim." — Anoni] 

MotheT,  the  angels  do  so  smile,  and  beckon  little  Jim. 
I  have  no  pain,  dear  mother,  now,  but  0,  I  am  so  dryl 
Just  moisten  poor  Jim's  lips  again,  and,  mother,  don't  you  cry. 


II.  Feebleness. 

Intermittent  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pectoral  Quality,  Expulsive  Form. 
[From  "The  Old  Man's  Eequest." — Thomas  Moss.'] 

Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man. 

Whose  trembling  limbs  have  borne  him  to  your  door, 
"Whose  days  are  dwindled  to  the  shortest  span ; 

0  fiive  relief !  and  Heaven  will  bJess  your  store  I 

III.  Age  and  Exhaustion. 

Intermittent  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Pectoral  and  Guttural  Quality,  JKj> 
pulsive  Form, 

[From  "  Death  of  Baron  Eudiger." — Green.l 

They  come  around  me  here,  and  say 

My  days  of  life  are  o'er, 
That  I  shall  mount  my  noble  steed 

And  lead  my  band  no  more  ; 
They  come,  and  to  my  beard  they  dare 

To  tell  me  now  that  I, 
Their  own  liege  lord  and  master  born, 

That  I — ha !  ha  I — must  die  ! 

The  intermittent  stress  gives  a  vivid  and  touching 
expression  to  utterance,  for  the  absence  of  which  nothing 
can  atone.  "  Without  its  appeal  to  sympathy,  and  its 
peculiar  power  over  the  heart,  many  ol  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  touching  passages  of  Shakspeare  and  Milton 
become  dry  and  cold," 


PITCH.  115 

SECTION  XXV. 
PITCH. 

Pitch  is  the  place  upon  the  musical  scale  on  which 
the  sound  is  uttered.  Every  sound,  whether  produced 
by  the  vocal  organs,  or  by  other  means,  is  found 
somewhere  on  this  musical  scale.  Thus  we  speak  of 
the  low  notes  of  the  organ,  the  high  notes  of  the  fife  ;  of 
the  low  tones  of  the  male  voice,  the  high  tones  of  the 
female  voice. 

Excellence  in  reading  and  speaking  requires  so  perfect 
control  of  the  different  divisions  of  pitch  that  at  pleasure 
the  voice  can  be  raised  or  lowered  according  to  the  feel- 
ing or  emotion  uttered. 

The  Author  of  our  being  has  so  attuned  the  sensibili- 
ties of  the  soul  that  certain  notes  of  voice  indicate  cer- 
tain emotions. 

A  low.  subdued  tone  heard  from  an  adjoining  room 
suggests  devotion ;  while  a  high  pitch  as  naturally  sug- 
gests a  joyous  conversation  or  angry  dispute. 

In  singing,  the  divisions  of  pitch  are  absolute.  Two 
persons  singing  the  same  tune,  however  widely  different 
their  natural  pitch  of  voice,  use  precisely  the  same  key. 
In  Elocution  the  divisions  of  pitch  are  relative.  Two 
l^ersons  may  read  the  same  selection  on  widely  different 
keys,  yet  each  be  entirely  appropriate. 

In  singing,  the  key  is  determined  by  musical  instru- 
ments, in  which  there  is  comparatively  little  variation. 

In  Elocution  the  key  appropriate  for  each  person  ia 
determined  by  his  own  voice. 

Students  of  Elocution  make  no  greater  mistake  than 
in  attempting  to  regulate  their  pitch  of  voice  by  that  of 
«ome  favorite  teacher  or  speaker. 


116  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Many  teachers  of  Elocution  injure  the  majority'  of 
their  pupils  by  impressing  them  with  the  idea  that  their 
peculiar  pitch  is  the  only  true  standard. 

Not  unfrequently  do  students  indicate  where  they 
have  been  educated  by  their  ridiculous  efforts  to  con- 
form a  voice  naturally  of  a  high  pitch  to  the  low  key  of 
their  instructor. 

It  cannot  be  too  earnestly  impressed  upon  the  minds 
of  pupils  that  each  voice  is  its  own  index  in  pitch. 

The  divisions  of  Pitch  in  Elocution  are  Very  High, 
High,  Middle,  Low,  Yery  Low.  These  divisions  should 
include  a  compass  of  at  least  two  octaves,  but  have  no 
definite  position  on  the  musical  scale,  varying  according 
to  the  natural  key  of  the  different  voices. 

That  key  upon  which  each  person  naturally  strikes  in 
ordinary  unimpassioued  conversation  will  be  his  Middle 
Pitch.  This  will  vary  three  or  five  notes.  From  this 
Middle  Pitch  all  other  divisions  are  to  be  determined. 

The  Low  Pitch  will  be  three,  four,  or  five  notes  below 
the  Middle.  The  Very  Low  will  be  two,  three,  or  four 
notes  below  the  Low ;  the  range  in  the  lower  notes 
being  much  less  than  in  the  high  notes.  The  High 
Pitch  will  be  ^ye,  six,  or  eight  notes  above  the  Middle ; 
the  Yery  High  will  be  five  or  eight  notes  above  the 
High. 

The  above  arrangement  of  the  divisions  of  pitch  is  on 
the  supposition  that  the  compass  of  voice  embraces  from 
two  and  a  half  to  three  octaves.  This  is  perhaps  not 
far  from  the  average,  though  the  compass  may  be  greatly 
increased  by  cultivation. 

It  may  be  well  here  to  remark  that  a  knowledge  of 
music  is  not  essential  in  the  practice  of  the  following 
exercises,  nor  indeed  to  the  highest  excellence  in  elocu- 
tion.    It  is  a  significant  fact  that  those  who  have  made 


PITCH.  117 

the  highest  attainments  in  reading  and  speaking  have 
"been  very  deficient  in  musical  cultivation.  Indeed  it 
will  be  found,  by  a  careful  investigation  of  the  subjects, 
that,  though  reading  and  singing  are  not  incompatible, 
they  are  by  no  means  mutual  helpers.  Singing  implies 
the  passage  of  the  voice  through  the  discrete  movement. 
Reading  and  speaking  require  the  passage  of  the  voice 
through  the  concrete  movement.  Persons  who  sing  a 
great  deal,  when  they  attempt  to  read  unconsciously 
glide  into  these  musical  intervals.  That  which  in  sing- 
ing constitutes  one  of  the  greatest  beauties,  namely,  the 
discrete  movement,  in  reading  is  the  chief  element  of  the 
defect  known  as  tone,  or  singing-reading. 

Singing  may  cultivate  the  voice,  but  it  is  exceedingly 
questionable  if  it  improves  the  vocal  delivery. 

Repeat  the  following  elements  and  words  several 
times,  first  in  a  Middle  Pitch,  then  in  a  Low  Pitch,  then 
in  a  High  Pitch,  then  in  a  Yery  Low,  and  last  in  a  Yery 
High  Pitch. 

This  exercise  may  be  varied  by  beginning  on  a  Yery 
Low  Pitch,  and,  on  each  repetition,  raising  the  key  two 
or  three  notes,  until  all  the  divisions  have  been  passed 
over. 

Pitch — First  Exeecise. 
1.  a,  as  heard  in  ale,  pale. 


2. 

a, 

u 

add,  fat 

3. 

a. 

u 

air,  pair. 

4. 

a. 

a 

far,  palm. 

5. 

a. 

u 

ask,  dance, 

6. 

a, 

<( 

all,  talk. 

1. 

o, 

.( 

old,  note. 

«. 

% 

C( 

use,  tube. 

118  SCIEJSCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 


Pitch — Second  Exeecise. 

Old, 

orb,  . 

fate, 

find, 

arm, 

harm. 

boat. 

coat. 

but, 

prove. 

moon. 

palm, 

obey, 

loud, 

broad, 

road, 

deep. 

dark. 

ocean. 

liberty, 

glorious,        mirror,  tempest,         brand. 

SECTION  XXVI. 
MIDDLEPITCH. 

The  middle  pitch  is  the  appropriate  key  for  the  ue- 
livery  of  narrative^  didactic  and  descriptive  thought  in 
the  form  of  scientific  and  literary  lectures,  introductions 
to  speeches,  orations  and  sermons. 

Examples  :  I.  Didactic  Thought. 

Middle  Fitch,  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Fure  Tone,  Expulsive 

Form. 

[From  "  Cheerfulness."— -4wt>7i.] 

There  is  no  one  quality  that  so  much  attaches  man  to  his  fellow- 
man  as  cheerfulness.  Talents  may  excite  more  respect,  and  virtue 
more  esteem ;  but  the  respect  is  apt  to  be  distant  and  the  esteem  cold. 
It  is  far  otherwise  with  cheerfulness.  It  endears  a  man  to  the  heart, 
not  the  intellect  or  the  imagination.  There  is  a  kind  of  reciprocal 
diffusiveness  about  this  quality  that  recommends  its  possessor  by  the 
very  effect  it  produces.  There  is  a  mellow  radiance  in  the  light  \i 
sheds  on  all  social  intercourse  which  pervades  the  soul  to  a  depth 
that  the  blaze  of  intellect  can  never  reach, 

II.  Descriptive  Thought. 

Middle  Fitch,  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Fure  Tone,  Fxpulsive 

Form. 

[From  "A  Scene  of  Ai-ab  Life."— ^^o?^.] 

All  that  has  been  related  concerning  the  passion  for  tales,  which 
distinguishes  the  Arabs,  is  literally  true.    During  the  night  which  we 


MIDDLE   PITCH.  119 

passed  on  the  shore  of  the  Dead  Sea  we  observed  our  Bethlehemitea 
seated  around  a  large  fire,  with  their  guns  laid  near  them  on  the 
ground,  while  their  horses,  fastened  to  stakes,  formed  a  kind  of  circle 
about  them.  These  Arabs,  after  having  taken  their  coffee,  and  conversed 
for  some  time  with  great  earnestness,  and  with  their  usual  loquacity, 
observed  a  strict  silence  when  the  sheik  began  his  tale.  We  could, 
by  the  light  of  the  fire,  distinguish  his  significant  gestures,  his  black 
beaid,  his  white  teeth,  and  the  various  plaits  and  positions  which  ho 
gave  to  his  tunic  during  the  recital.  His  companions  listened  to  him 
with  the  most  profound  attention ;  all  of  them  with  their  bodies  bent 
forward,  and  their  faces  over  the  flame,  alternately  sending  forth 
shouts  of  admiration,  and  repeating  with  great  emphasis  the  gestures 
of  the  historian.  The  heads  of  some  few  of  their  horses  and  camels 
were  occasionally  seen  elevated  above  the  group,  and  shadowing,  as 
it  were,  the  picture.  "When  to  these  was  added  a  glimpse  of  the 
scenery  about  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  mountains  of  Judea,  the  whole 
effect  was  striking  and  fanciful  in  the  highest  degree. 

III.  Narration. 

Middle  Pitchy   Radical  Stress,   Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  ExpulsiV6 

Form. 

[From  "  Life  of  Ealeigli."— ^^ow.] 

Raleigh's  cheerfulness  during  his  last  daj^s  was  so  great,  and  his 
fearlessness  of  death  so  marked,  that  the  Dean  of  Westminster,  who 
attended  him,  wondering  at  his  deportment,  reprehended  the  hghtnesa 
of  his  manner.  But  Raleigh  gave  God  thanks  that  he  had  never 
feared  death,  for  it  was  but  an  opinion  and  an  imagination ;  and  as 
for  the  manner  of  death,  he  had  rather  die  so  than  in  a  burning  fever; 
that  some  might  have  made  shows  outwardly,  but  he  felt  the  joy 
within. 

IV.  Introduction  to  Judicial  Speech. 

Middle  Pitchy  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone^  Expulsive 

Foiin. 

["Trial  of  a  Murderer." — Webster.'] 

Against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  as  an  individual,  I  cannot  have  the 
slightest  prejudice.  I  would  not  do  him  the  smahest  injury  or  injus- 
tice ;  but  I  do  not  affect  to  be  indifferent  to  the  discovery  and  the 
piuiishment  of  this  deep  guilt.  I  cheerfully  share  in  the  opprobrium, 
how  much  soever  it  may  be,  which  is  cast  on  those  who  feel  and 


120  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

manifest  an  anxious  concern  that  aU  who  had  a  part  in  planning,  or  a 
hand  in  executing,  this  deed  of  midnight  assassination,  may  be  brought 
to  answer  for  their  enormous  crime  at  the  bar  of  public  justice. 

SECTION  xxvn. 

LOW    PITCH. 

Low  pitch  is  the  key  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
serious^  solemn^  pathetic^  grave^  devotional^  sublime  and 
grand  thought  not  of  an  earnest  or  impassioned  char- 
acter. 

Examples  :  I.  Solemn  Didactic. 

Lcm  Pitchy  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  Form, 

[From  "  Eeligion  the  Only  Basis  of  Society." — Channing.'] 

Few  men  suspect,  perhaps  no  man  comprehends,  the  extent  of  the 
support  given  by  religion  to  every  virtue.  No  man,  perhaps,  is  aware 
how  much  our  moral  and  social  sentiments  are  fed  from  this  fountain ; 
how  powerless  conscience  would  become  without  the  belief  of  a  God ; 
how  palsied  would  be  human  benevolence,  were  there  not  the  sense 
of  a  higher  benevolence  to  quicken  and  sustain  it ;  how  suddenly  the 
whole  social  fabric  would  quake,  and  with  what  a  fearful  crash  it 
would  sink  into  hopeless  ruin,  were  the  ideas  of  a  Supreme  Being,  of 
accountableness,  and  of  a  future  life,  to  be  utterly  erased  from  every 
mind. 

II.  Solemn  Descriptive. 

Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  Isle  of  Long  Ago."] 

There's  a  magical  isle  up  the  river  of  Time, 

"Where  the  softest  of  airs  are  playing ; 
There's  a  cloudless  sky,  and  a  tropical  chme, 
And  a  song  as  sweet  as  a  vesper  chime, 
And  the  Junes  with  the  roses  are  straying. 

And  the  name  of  that  isle  is  the  Long  Ago, 

And  we  bury  our  treasures  there ; 
There  are  brows  of  beauty  and  bosoms  of  snow  ; 
There  are  heaps  of  dust — but  we  loved  them  so  I 

There  are  trinkets  and  tresses  of  hair. 


HIGH   PITCH.  121 

There  are  fragments  of  song  that  nobody  sings, 

And  a  part  of  an  infant's  prayer ; 
There's  a  lute  unswept,  and  a  harp  without  strings, 
There  are  broken  vows  and  pieces  of  rings, 

And  the  garments  she  used  to  wear. 

III.  Sublimity. 

Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Moderate  and  Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Effu 
sive  Form. 

[From  In  Memoriam :  "  Abraham  Lincoln." — Mrs.  K  G.  £ugJ)ee.'\ 

There's  a  burden  of  grief  on  the  breezes  of  spring, 
And  a  song  of  regret  from  the  bird  on  its  wing ; 
There's  a  pall  on  the  sunshine  and  over  the  flowers, 
And  a  shadow  of  graves  on  these  spirits  of  ours ; 
For  a  star  hath  gone  out  from  the  night  of  our  sky, 
On  whose  brightness  we  gazed  as  the  war-cloud  rolled  by ; 
So  tranquil  and  steady  and  clear  were  its  beams. 
That  they  fell  like  a  vision  of  peace  on  our  dreams. 


SECTION  XXVIII. 
HIGH  PITCH. 

High  pitch  is  the  key  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
animated.,  joyous^  gay^  earnest  and  impassioned  thought. 

Examples:  I.  Animated. 

Righ  PitcTif    Radical    Stress,   Energetic  Force,   Pure   Tone,   Expulsivt 
Form. 

pfiom  "Paddle  Your  Own  Canoe." — Mrs.  Bolton.} 

Yoyager  upon  life's  sea, 

To  yourself  be  true ; 
And  where'er  your  lot  may  be, 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 
Never,  though  the  winds  may  rave, 

Falter  nor  look  back. 
But  upon  the  darkest  wave 

Leave  a  shining  track. 


122  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTIOJS". 

Nobly  dare  the  wildest  storm, 

Stem  the  hardest  gale ; 
Brave  of  heart  and  strong  of  arm, 

You  will  never  fail. 
"When  the  world  is  cold  and  dark, 

Keep  an  end  in  view, 
And  toward  the  beacon  mark 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 

n.  Joy. 

High  Piiih,  Radical  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  arid 

Explosive  For 7ns. 

[From  "  Voice  of  Spring."— Jfcfrs.  ffeman*.'] 

I  come  !  I  come  1  ye  have  called  me  long : 
I  come  o'er  the  mountains  with  light  and  song. 
Ye  may  trace  my  step  o'er  the  wakening  earth, 
By  the  winds  which  tell  of  the  violet's  birth, 
By  the  primrose  stars  in  the  shadowy  grass, 
By  the  green  leaves  opening  as  I  pass. 

From  the  streams  and  founts  I  have  loosed  the  cham ; 
They  are  sweeping  on  to  the  silvery  main ; 
They  are  flashing  down  from  the  mountain  brows; 
They  are  flinging  spray  o'er. the  forest-boughs; 
They  are  bursting  fresh  from  their  sparry  caves, 
And  the  earth  resounds  with  the  joy  of  waves. 

III.  Impassioned  Oratorical. 
Bigh  Fitch,  Radical  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Orotund,  Expulsive  and 
Exp)losive  Forms. 
[From  Speech  in  Virginia  Convention. — Patrick  JTetiry,] 
Sir,  we  are  not  weak  if  we  make  a  proper  use  of  those  means 
which  the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in  our  power.     Three  millions 
of  people,  armed  in  the  holy  cause  of  libf.'rty,  and  in  such  a  country 
as  that  which  we  possess,  are  invincible  by  any  force  which  our  ene- 
my can  send  against  us.     Besides,  sir,  we  shall  not  fight  our  battles 
alone.     There  is  a  just  God  who  presides  over  the  destinies  of  nations, 
and  who  will  raise  up  friends  to  fight  our  battles  for  us.     The  battle, 
sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  alone;  it- is  to  the  vigilant,  the  active,  the 
brave.     Besides,  sir,  :v^^e  have  no  election.     If  we  were  base  enough 
to  desire  it,  it  is  now  too  late  to  retire  from  the  contest.     There  is  no 
retreat  but  in  submission  and  slavery.     Our  chains  are  forged.    Their 


VERY   LOW   PITCH.  123 

clanking  may  be  heard  on  the  plains  of  Boston.     The  wai  is  inevita- 
ble, and  let  it  come  I     I  repeat  it,  sir,  let  it  come  ! 

It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  Gentlemen  may  cry 
Peace  1  peace  I  but  there  is  no  peace.  The  war  is  actually  begun  1 
The  next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  North  will  bring  to  our  ears  the 
clash  of  resounding  arms  1  Our  brethren  are  already  in  the  field  I 
Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What  is  it  that  gentlemen  wish  ?  What 
would  they  have  ?  Is  life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  pur- 
chased at  the  price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Almighty  Grod ! 
I  know  not  what  course  others  may  take ;  but  as  for  me,  give  me 
liberty,  or  give  me  death  I 

lY.  Impassioned  Poetky. 

High,  Pitchy   Thorough   Stress,  Impassioned  Force,   Orotund^  Expulsive 
Form. 
[From  "Sheridan's  Fade."— 71  B.  Read.'] 
Under  his  spurning  feet,  the  road 
Like  an  arrowy  Alpine  river  flowed, 
And  the  landscape  sped  away  behind, 
Like  an  ocean  flying  before  the  wind; 
And  the  steed,  like  a  bark  fed  with  furnace  ire, 
Swept  on,  with  his  wild  eye  full  of  fire. 
But  lo  1  he  is  nearing  his  heart's  desire ; 
He  is  snufi&ng  the  smoke  of  the  roaring  fray, 
With  Sheridan  only  five  miles  away. 

SECTION  XXIX. 
VERY    LOW    PITCH. 

Very  low  pitch  is  the  key  appropriate  for  the  expres- 
eion  of  deep  solemnity  when  mingled  with  aioe.,  sublimity^ 
grandeur^  amazement^  horror^  despair^  melancholy  and 
gloom. 

Examples:  I.  Solemnity  and  Sublimity. 

Very  Low  Fitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Orotund  Effusive  Form. 
[From  "  Apostrophe  to  the  Ocean." — Byron.'] 
Eoll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll  1 

Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain! 
Man  marks  the  earth  with  ruin — his  control 
Stops  with  the  shore;  upon  the  watery  plain 


124  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

The  wrecks  are  all  thy  deed,  nor  doth  remain 
A  shadow  of  man's  ravage,  save  his  own, 

When  for  a  moment,  like  a  drop  of  rain. 
He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 
"Without  a  grave,  unknelled,  uncoffined,  and  unknown. 


II.  Solemnity,  Sublimity  and  Awe. 

Very  Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Orotund,  Aspirate, 
Effusive  Form. 

[From  "  Cato's  Soliloquy." — Addison.'] 

It  must  be  so ;  Plato,  thou  reasonest  well  I 

Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 

This  longing  after  immortality  ? 

Or  whence  this  secret  dread  and  inward  horror 

Of  falling  into  nought  ?    Why  shrinks  the  soul 

Back  on  herself,  and  startles  at  destruction  ? 

'Tis  the  Divinity  that  stirs  within  us : 

'Tis  Heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter. 

And  intimates  Eternity  to  man. 

Eternity  1  thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought  1 

Through  what  variety  of  untried  being. 

Through  what  new  scenes  and  changes  must  we  pass ! 

The  wide,  th'  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me ; 

But  shadows,  clouds  and  darkness  rest  upon  it. 

III.  Awe,  Dismay  and  Despair. 

Very  Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  Force,   Orotund,  Aspirate- 
Pectoral,  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "  The  Pestilence."— Poz-^^t^.] 

At  dead  of  night, 
In  suUen  silence  stalks  forth  Pestilenee  : 
Contagion,  close  behind,  taints  all  her  steps 
With  poisonous  dew :  no  smiting  hand  ia  seen  j 
No  sound  is  heard ;  but  soon  her  secret  path 
Is  marked  with  desolation :  heaps  on  heaps 
Promiscuous  drop.     No  friend,  no  refuge  near: 
All,  all  is  false  and  treacherous  around. 
All  that  they  touch,  or  taste,  or  breathe,  is  Death. 


VERY  HIGH  PITCH.  125 

TV,  Solemnity  and  Awe. 

Very  Low  Fitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  Force,   Orotund^  Aspirate 

Fectoral,  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "Marco  Bozzaris." — Ilalleck.'] 

Come  to  the  bridal  chamber,  Death  I 

Come  to  the  mother  when  she  feels 
For  the  first  time  her  first-born's  breath; 

Come  when  the  blessed  seals 
Which  close  the  pestilence  are  broke, 
And  crowded  cities  wail  its  stroke ; 
Come  in  consumption's  ghastly  form, 
The  earthquake  shock,  the  ocean  storm ; 
(;ome  when  the  heart  beats  high  and  warm, 

With  banquet-song,  and  dance,  and  wine, 
And  thou  art  terrible :  the  tear. 
The  groan,  the  knell,  the  pall,  the  bier, 
And  all  we  know,  or  dream,  or  fear 

Of  agony  are  thine. 
But  to  the  hero,  when  his  sword 

Has  won  the  battle  for  the  free. 
Thy  voice  sounds  like  a  prophet's  word. 
And  in  its  hollow  tones  are  heard 

The  thanks  of  millions  yet  to  be. 

SECTION  XXX. 
VERY    HIGH    PITCH. 

Very  high  pitch  is  the  key  appropriate  for  the  expres- 
sion of  ecstatic  j 07/,  rapturous  delight,  impassioned  shout- 
ing, calling  and  commanding. 

Examples  :   I.  Ecstatic  Joy. 

Very  Uig%  Fitch,  Thm^ough  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Pure  Tone.  E?' 

pulsive  Form. 

[From  "  Song  of  Valkrieur." — Mrs.  ffemarcs.} 

Lo,  the  mighty  sun  looks  forth! 
Arm,  thou  leader  of  the  north  I 
Lo,  the  mists  of  twilight  fly — 
We  must  vanish,  thou  must  die  I 


126  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

By  the  sword,  and  by  the  spear, 
By  the  hand  that  knows  not  fear, 
Sea-king,  nobly  shalt  thou  fall  I 
There  is  joy  in  Odin's  hall  I 

11.  Shouting. 

Tery  High  Pitchy  Tfiorough  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Pure  Tone^  Exr 

pulsive  Form. 

[From  "  Prisoner  for  Debt" — Whittier.l 

Go,  ring  the  bells,  and  fire  the  guns, 

And  fling  the  starry  banner  out  ; 
Shout  "  freedom  "  till  your  lisping  ones 

Give  back  their  cradle-shout ; 
Let  boasted  eloquence  declaim 
Of  honor,  liberty,  and  fame ; 
Still  let  the  poet's  strain  be  heard, 
With  "  glory  "  for  each  second  word, 
And  every  thing  with  breath  agree 
To  praise  "  our  glorious  liberty." 

III.  Impassioned  Command. 

Very  High  Fitch,  TJiorough  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Fh 

pulsive  Form. 

[From  "  Life  Boat."— ^wcw.] 

Quick  I  man  the  life-boat !     See  yon  bark 

That  drives  before  the  blast  I 
There's  a  rock  ahead,  the  night  is  dark, 

And  the  storm  comes  thick  and  fast. 
Can  human  power,  in  such  an  hour, 

Avert  the  doom  that's  o'er  her  ? 
Her  mainmast's  gone,  but  she  still  drives  on 

To  the  fatal  reef  before  her. 

The  life-boat !     Man  the  life-boat  1 

The  ability  to  control  tlie  pitch  of  voice  is  one  of  the 
greatest  accomplishments  in  Elocution.  Without  the 
power  of  readily  accommodating  the  voice  to  the  key 
demanded  by  the  emotion,  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
natural  and  impressive  reading  or  speaking. 


MOVEMENT  OF  VOICE.  127 

More  public  speakers  fail  from  inability  to  control 
pitch  than  from  any  other  cause.  Instances  are  numer- 
ous of  public  speakers  who,  after  the  deUvery  of  a  few 
introductory  sentences,  allow  the  voice  to  rise  an  octave 
above  the  key  demanded  by  the  sentiment,  and  upon 
this  unpleasant  tone,  without  a  change  of  more  than  one 
or  two  notes,  speak  for  an  hour  at  a  time. 

No  one  would  listen  willingly  to  a  tune  constructed 
with  a  change  of  only  two  or  three  notes.  As  in  music, 
so  in  Elocution,  a  constant  change  in  pitch  is  demanded. 
In  speaking  not  only  does  each  separate  word  and  syl- 
lable require  a  slight  change  in  pitch,  but  often  wide 
transitions  are  necessary  to  properly  express  the  ever- 
varying  sentiment. 

Upon  the  different  divisions  of  pitch  all  the  previous 
attributes  should  be  practiced. 

SECTION  XXXI. 
MOVEMENT   OF   VOICE. 

Movement  of  voice  is  the  rate  with  which  words  are 
uttered  in  continuous  discourse. 

The  different  rates  of  movement  may  be  indicated  by 
the  terms  Very  Rapid,  Rapid,  Moderate,  Slow,  Very 
Slow. 

Appropriate  utterance  demands  control  of  every  degree 
of  movement  from  the  slowest  to  the  most  rapid. 

To  acquire  this  power  practice  the  following  sentences, 
first  in  a  moderate,  then  in  a  rapid,  then  in  a  slow,  then  in 
a  very  rapid,  and  lastly,  in  a  very  slow  movement, 

1.  Now  came  still  evening  on. 

2.  Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  from  the  sight. 

3.  O'er  all  the  peaceful  world  the  smile  of  heaven  shall  lie. 


128  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

4.  "Wheel  the  wild  dance  till  the  morning  break. 

5.  Haste  thee,  nymph,  and  bring  with  thee  mirth  and  youthful 
jollity. 

6.  Now  set  the  teeth  and  stretch  the  nostrils  wide. 

7.  Here  it  comes  sparkling, 
And  there  it  lies  darkling; 
Now  smoking  and  frothing, 
Its  tumult  and  wrath  in, 
Till  in  this  rapid  race 

On  which  it  is  bent, 
It  reaches  the  place 

Of  its  steep  descent. 

SECTION  xxxn. 

MODERATE    MOVEMENT, 

Moderate  movement  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery 
of  narrative^  didactic  and  unimpassioned  thought  in  the 
form  of  scientific  and  literary  lectures  and  introductions 
to  speeches. 

Examples  :  I.  Simple  Narration. 

Moderate  Movement^  Middle  Pitchy  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force^  Pure 

Tone,  Expidsive  Form. 

[From  "  Destruction  of  Carthage." — Anon.} 

The  city  and  republic  of  Carthage  were  destroyed  by  the  termina- 
tion of  the  third  Punic  war,  about  one  huudred  and  fifty  years  before 
Christ.  The  city  was  in  flames  during  seventeen  days,  and  the  news 
of  its  destruction  caused  the  greatest  joy  at  Rome.  The  Roman  Sen- 
ate immediately  appointed  commissioners,  not  only  to  raze  the  walla 
of  Carthage,  but  even  to  demolish  and  burn  the  very  materials  of 
which  they  were  made,  and  in  a  few  days  that  city,  which  had  once 
been  the  seat  of  commerce,  the  model  of  magnificence,  the  common 
storehouse  of  the  wealth  of  nations,  and  one  of  the  most  powerful 
citates  in  the  world,  left  behind  no  trace  of  its  splendor,  of  its  power, 
or  even  of  its  existence.  The  history  of  Carthage  is  one  of  the  many 
proofs  that  we  have  of  the  transient  nature  of  worldly  glory,  for  of 
all  her  grandeur  not  a  wreck  remains.  Her  own  walls,  like  the  calm 
ocean  that  conceals  forever  the  riches  hid  in  its  unsearchable  abyss, 
now  obscure  all  her  magnificence. 


MODERATE   MOVEMENT.  129 

II.  Desceiptiye. 

MoJ^ate  Movement,  Middle  Pitch,  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pv/re 

Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 

[From  "Aspect  of  Egypt.'' — Addison."] 

There  cannot  be  a  finer  sight  than  Egypt  at  two  seasons  of  the 
year  ;  for  if  we  ascend  one  of  the  pyramids  in  the  months  of  July  and 
August  we  behold,  in  the  swollen  waters  of  the  Nile,  a  vast  sea,  in 
which  numberless  towns  and  villages  appear,  with  several  causeways 
leading  from  place  to  place,  the  whole  interspersed  with  groves  and 
fruit-trees,  whose  tops  only  are  visible — all  which  forms  a  delightful 
prospect.  This  view  is  bounded  by  mountains  and  woods,  which  ter- 
minate, at  the  utmost  distance  the  eye  can  discover,  the  most  beauti- 
ful horizon  that  can  be  imagined.  In  winter,  on  the  contrary,  that  is 
to  say,  in  the  months  of  January  and  February,  the  whole  country  is 
like  one  continuous  scene  of  beautiful  meadows,  whose  verdure,  en- 
ameled with  flowers,  charms  the  eye.  The  spectator  beholds  on  every 
side  flocks  and  herds  dispersed  over  all  the  plains,  with  infinite  num- 
bers of  husbandmen  and  gardeners.  The  air  is  then  perfumed  by  the 
great  quantity  of  blossoms  on  the  orange,  lemon,  and  other  trees,  and 
is  so  pure  that  a  wholesome  or  more  agreeable  is  not  to  be  found  in 
the  world,  so  that  nature  being  then  dead,  as  it  were,  in  all  other 
climates,  seems  to  be  alive  only  for  so  dehghtful  an  abode. 

III.  Introduction  to  Legal  Speech. 

Moderate  Movement,  Middle  Pitch,  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pure 

Tone,  Expulsive  Form. 

[From  "  Eeply  to  Wickham  in  Burr's  Trial." —  Wirt.] 

In  proceeding  to  answer  the  argument  of  the  gentleman  I  will  treat 
him  with  candor.  If  I  misrepresent  him  it  will  not  be  intentionally. 
I  will  not  follow  the  example  which  he  has  set  me  on  a  very  recent 
occasion.  I  will  endeavor  to  meet  the  gentleman's  propositions  in 
their  full  force,  and  to  answer  them  fairly.  I  will  not,  as  I  am  ad- 
vancing toward  them,  with  my  mind's  eye  measure  the  height, 
breadth  and  power  of  the  proposition.  If  I  find  it  beyond  my  strength, 
halve  it ;  if  still  beyond  my  strength,  quarter  it ;  if  still  necessary, 
subdivide  it  into  eighths ;  and  when,  by  this  process,  I  have  reduced 
it  to  the  proper  standard,  take  one  of  these  sections  and  toss  it  with 
an  air  of  elephantine  strength  and  superiority.  If  I  find  myself  capable 
of  conducting,  by  a  fair  course  of  reasoning,  any  one  of  his  propositions 
to  an  absurd  conclusion,  I  will  not  begin  by  stating  that  absurd  conclusion 

9 


130  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

as  tho  proposition  itself  which  I  am  going  to  encounter.  I  will  not,  fn 
commenting  on  the  gentleman's  authorities,  thank  the  gentleman  with 
Barcastic  poUteness  for  introducing  them,  declare  that  they  conclude  di- 
rectly against  him,  read  just  so  much  of  the  authority  as  serves  the  pur- 
pose of  that  declaration,  omitting  that  which  contains  the  true  point  of 
the  case,  which  makes  against  me ;  nor,  if  forced  by  a  direct  call  to  read 
that  part  also,  will  I  content  myself  by  running  over  it  as  rapidly  and  in- 
articulately as  I  can,  throw  down  the  book  with  a  theatrical  air,  and  ex- 
claim, "  Tust  as  I  said  1 "  when  I  know  it  is  just  as  I  had  not  said. 

SECTION   XXXIII. 
SLOWMOVEMENT. 

Slow  movement  is  appropriate  for  the  expression  oi 
solemn^  serious^  grave  and  devotional  thought. 

Examples  :  I.  Solem:?^  and  Serious  Thought. 

Slfm  Movement^  Low  Pitchy  Median  Stress^  Subdued  Force^  Pure  Tom 

Effusive  Form. 

[From  "Mountains  of  Life." — Cflarh.l 

There's  a  land  far  away,  'mid  the  stars,  we  are  told, 
Where  they  know  not  the  sorrows  of  time  ; 

"Where  the  pure  waters  wander  through  valleys  of  gold, 
And  Hfe  is  a  treasure  sublime ; 

'Tis  the  land  of  our  God,  'tis  the  home  of  the  soul, 

Where  the  ages  of  splendor  eternally  roll ; 

Where  the  way-weary  traveler  reaches  his  goal, 
On  the  ever-green  Mountains  of  Life. 

IT.  Graye  Didactic. 

Slow  Movement^  Low  Pitchy  Radical  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Pure  Ton<i 

Expulsive  Form. 

[From  "Promises  of  Religion  to  the  Youxxg:''— Alison.'] 

In  every  part  of  Scripture  it  is  remarkable  with  what  singular  ten 

derness  the  season  of  youth  is  always  mentioned,  and  what  hopes  are 

offered  to  the  devotion  of  the  young.     It  was  at  that  age  that  God 

appeared  unto  Moses  when  he  fed  his  iock  in  the  desert,  and  called 

him  to  the  command  of  hia  own  people.     It  was  at  that  age  that  he 

visited  the  infant  Samuel,  while  he  ministered  in  the  temple  of  the 

Lord,  "  in  days  when  the  word  of  the  Lord  was  precious,  and  when 

ihere  was  no  open  vision."     It  was  at  that  age  that  his  Spirit  feii 


VERY   SLOW   MOVEMENT.  131 

upon  David,  while  he  was  yet  the  youngest  of  his  father's  sons,  j.nd 
when  among  the  mountains  of  Bethlehem  he  fed  his  father's  sheep. 

It  was  at  that  age  also  that  they  brought  young  children  unto 
Christ  that  he  should  touch  them,  and  his  disciples  rebuked  those 
that  brought  them.  But  when  Jesus  saw  it  he  was  much  displeased, 
and  said  to  them,  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid 
them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  If  these,  then,  are 
the  effects  and  promises  of  youth  and  piety,  rejoice,  0  young  man,  ia 
thy  youth  I  rejoice  in  those  days  which  are  never'  to  return,  when 
religion  comes  to  thee  in  all  its  charms,  and  when  the  God  of  nature 
reveals  himself  to  thy  soul,  like  the  mild  radiance  of  the  morning  sun 
when  he  rises  amid  the  blessings  of  a  grateful  world. 

III.  Reverence  and  Deyotion. 

Slow  Movement,  Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Moderate  Force,  Orotund^ 

Effusive  Form. 

[From  "The  Groves,  God's  First  Temples."— JJ^/aw^.] 

0  Grod !  when  thou 
Dost  scare  the  world  with  tempests,  set  on  fire 
The  heavens  with  falling  thunderbolts,  or  fill, 
With  all  the  waters  of  the  firmament, 
The  swift,  dark  whirlwind  that  uproots  the  woods 
And  drowns  the  villages ;  when,  at  thy  call, 
Uprises  the  great  deep,  and  throws  himself 
Upon  the  continent,  and  overwhelms 
Its  cities ;  who  forgets  not,  at  the  sight 
Of  these  tremendous  tokens  of  thy  power. 
His  pride,  and  lays  liis  strifes  and  follies  by  I 
0  from  these  sterner  aspects  of  thy  face 
Spare  me  and  mine ;  nor  let  us  need  the  wrath 
Of  the  mad,  unchained  elements  to  teach 
Who  rules  them.     Be  it  ours  to  meditate, 
In  these  calm  shades,  thy  milder  majesty. 
And  to  the  beautiful  order  of  thy  works 
Learn  to  conform  the  order  of  our  lives. 

SECTION  XXXIV. 
VERY   SLOW   MOVEMENT.  " 
Very  slow  movement  is  appropriate  for  the  expres- 
sion of  profound  reverence^  deep  sole'^nnity^  adoration^ 
amazement^  awe  and  horror. 


132  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Examples:  I.  Profound  Reverence  and  Adokation 

Very  Slow  Movement,  Very  Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  Force^ 

Aspirate  Orotund,  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "God." — Derzlia'vin.'] 

O  thou  Eternal  One  I  whose  presence  bright 
All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide ; 

Unchanged  through  Time's  all-devastating  flight ; 
Thou  only  G-od.     There  is  no  God  beside. 

Being  above  all  beings.     Mighty  One, 

Whom  none  can  comprehend,  and  none  explore ; 

Who  fillest  existence  with  thyself  alone ; 
Embracing  all,  supporting,  ruling  o'er, 
Being  whom  we  call  Grod,  and  know  no  more. 

II.    SUBLIIMITY   AND    AwE. 

Very  Slow  Movement,  Very  Lovj  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  Foroe^ 

Aspirate- Pectoral  Orotund,  Effusive  Form, 

[From  "  Closing  Year." — FrenUce,'] 

'Tis  a  time 
For  memory  and  for  tears.     Within  the  deep, 
Still  chambers  of  the  heart,  a  specter  dim. 
Whose  tones  are  like  the  wizard  voice  of  Time, 
Heard  from  the  tomb  of  ages,  points  its  cold 
And  solemn  finger  to  the  beautiful 
And  holy  visions  that  have  passed  away. 
And  left  no  shadow  of  their  loveliness 
On  the  dead  waste  of  life.     That  specter  lifts 
The  coffin-lid  of  Hope,  and  Joy,  and  Love, 
And,  bending  mournfully  above  the  pale, 
Sweet  forms  that  slumber  there,  scatters  dead  flowers 
O'er  what  has  passed  to  nothingness. 

III.  Amazement,  Awe  and  Horeor. 

Very  Slow  Movement,  Very  Low  Pitch,  Median  Stress,  Energetic  J^ce, 

Aspirate- Pectoral  Orotund,  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "  Darkness." — Byron.l 

The  world  was  void: 
The  populous  and  the  powerful  was  a  lump, 
Seasonless,  herbless,  treeless,  manless,  lifeless; 


RAPID   MOVEMENT.  133 

A  lump  of  death,  a  chaos  of  hard  clay. 

The  rivers,  lakes  and  ocean  all  stood  still,  * 

And  nothing  stirred  within  their  silent  depths. 

Ships,  sailorless,  lay  rotting  on  the  sea, 

And  their  masts  fell  down  piecemeal :  as  they  dropped 

They  slept  on  the  abyss,  without  a  surge, 

The  waves  were  dead;  the  tides  were  in  their  grave; 

The  moon,  their  mistress,  had  expired  before ; 

The  winds  were  withered  in  the  stagnant  air, 

And  the  clouds  perished :  Darkness  had  no  need 

Of  aid  from  them — she  was  the  universe. 


SECTION  XXXV. 
RAPID    MOVEMENT. 

Rapid  movement  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
aniniated^  gay  ^joyous  thought  and  impassioned  and  m- 
dignant  emotion.  "  It  gives  utterance  to  all  playful^ 
humorous  and  mirthful  moods.  It  sometimes,  on  the 
other  hand,  gives  its  characteristic  effect  to /ear." 

Examples:  1.  Animated. 

Rapid  Mcvement,  High  Pitch,  Radical  Stress,  Energetic  Force,  Expulsive 
and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  "  Spirit  of  Poetry."— P^rcitJa?.] 

The  world  is  full  of  poetry — the  air 

Is  living  with  its  spirit ;  and  the  waves 

Dance  to  the  music  of  its  melodies, 

And  sparkle  in  its  brightness.     Earth  is  vailed 

And  mantled  with  its  beauty ;  and  the  walls 

That  close  the  universe  with  crystal  in 

Are  eloquent  with  voices  that  proclaim 

The  unseen  glories  of  immensity, 

In  harmonies  too  perfect  and  too  high 

For  aught  but  beings  of  celestial  mold, 

And  speak  to  man,  in  one  eternal  hymn, 

Unfading  beauty  and  unyielding  power. 


134:  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 


II.   Gay  and  Lively. 

Rapid  Movement^  High  Pitchy  Radical  Stress^  Energetic  ForcCj  Fwre 
Tone,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  "  Coquette  Punished." — AnonJ] 

Ellen  was  fair,  and  knew  it,  too, 
As  other  village  beauties  do, 

Whose  mirrors  never  lie ; 
Secure  of  sluj  swain  she  chose. 
She  smiled  on  half  a  dozen  beaux, 
And,  reckless  of  a  lover's  woes, 
She  cheated  these,  and  taunted  those ; 
"  Eor  how  could  any  one  suppose 

A  clown  could  take  her  eye  ?  " 


III.  Impassioned  and  Indignant  Emotion. 

Rapid  Movement,  High  Pitch,  Radical  Stress,  Impassioned  Force,  Oro- 
tund, Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms. 

[From  "Lochiel  and  the  Seer." — Camp'beU.'l 

False  wizard,  avaunt  1  I  have  marshaled  my  clan, 
Their  swords  are  a  thousand,  their  bosoms  are  one ; 
They  are  true  to  the  last  of  their  blood  and  their  breath, 
And  like  reapers  descend  to  the  harvest  of  death. 
Then  welcome  be  Cumberland's  steed  to  the  shock ; 
Let  him  dash  his  proud  foam  like  a  wave  on  the  rock ; 
But  woe  to  his  kindred,  and  woe  to  his  cause, 
When  Albin  her  claymore  indignantly  draws ; 
When  her  bonneted  chieftains  to  victory  crowd, 
Clanranald  the  dauntless,  and  Moray  the  proud, 
All  plaided  and  plimied  in  their  tartan  array. 


SECTION  XXXVI. 
VERY   RAPID    MOVEMliJST. 

Very  rapid  movement  is  appropriate  for  tlie  delivery 
of  ecstatic  joy^  lyric  descripti07i  of  hrillicmt  and  exciting 
scenes. 


VERY  RAPID   MOVEMENT.  135 


Examples  :  I.  Ecstatic  Joy. 

Very  Rapid  Movement^  Very  High  Pitchy  Radical  Stress,  Impassimied 
Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  and  Explosive  Forms 

[From  "  It  Snows."— J/rs.  Rale:\ 

"It  snows,"  cries  the  schoolboy ;  "  hurrah  1 "  and  his  shout 

Is  ringing  through  parlor  and  hall ; 
While  swift  as  the  wing  of  a  swallow  he's  out, 

And  his  playmates  have  answered  his  call. 
It  makes  the  heart  leap  but  to  witness  their  joy ; 

Proud  wealth  has  no  pleasure,  I  trow, 
Like  the  rapture  that  throbs  in  the  pulse  of  the  boy 

As  he  gathers  his  treasures  of  snow. 


II.    HlTRRY   AND    COMMOTION — LyEIC   StYLE. 

Very  Rapid  Movement,  Very.  High  Pitch,  Radical  Stress,  Impassioned 
Force,  Pure  Tone,  Expulsive  and  Exp)losive  Forms. 

[From  "Mazeppa." — Byron.] 

Away,  away,  and  on  we  dash  I 
Torrents  less  rapid  and  less  rash. 
Away,  away,  my  steed  and  I, 

Upon  the  pinions  of  the  wind, 

All  human  dwellings  left  behind : 
"We  sped  like  meteors  through  the  sky, 
When  with  its  crackling  sound  the  night 
Is  checkered  with  the  northern  light : 
From  out  the  forest  prance 
A  trampling  troop — I  see  them  come ; 
A  thousand  horse,  and  none  to  ride ; 
With  flowing  tail  and  flying  mane, 
Wide  nostrils,  never  stretched  by  pain, 
Mouths  bloodless  to  the  bit  or  rein. 
And  feet  that  iron  never  shod. 
And  flanks  unscarred  by  spur  or  rod : 
A  thousand  horse — the  wild,  the  free, 
Like  waves  that  follow  o'er  the  sea, 

Came  thickly  thundering  oii. 
They  stop,  they  start,  they  snuff  the  air. 
Gallop  a  moment  here  and  there, 


136  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Approach,  retire,  wheel  round  and  round, 
Then  plunging  back  with  sudden  bound, 
They  snort,  they  foam,  neigh,  swerve  asiae. 
And  backward  to  the  forest  fly, 
By  instinct,  from  a  human  eye. 

Perfect  command  of  eveiy  degree  of  movement  is  in 
dispensable  to  the  appropriate  expression  of  the  different 
forms  of  thought  and  emotion. 

IsTo  defect  more  certainly  kills  the  power  of  utterance 
than  an  improper  rate  of  movement. 

Ministers  of  the  Gospel  not  unfrequently  weary  the 
patience  of  their  audience  by  a  slow,  monotonous,  tedious 
delivery.  Lecturers  and  lawyers  often  mar  the  effect  of 
a  good  discourse  by  a  hurried  and  rapid  utterance. 

Schoolboy  speaking  is  characterized  by  an  unvarying 
movement. 

"  It  is  evident  from  the  very  nature  of  '  movement ' 
that  it  must  be  an  element  of  immense  power  in  expres- 
sion. The  funeral  march  suggests  to  the  ear  its  effect 
in  music  as  associated  with  awe^  gloom  and  griefs  and 
the  music  of  the  dance  reminds  us  of  its  power  over 
the  feelings  of  gladness  and  exhilaration.  The  grave 
psalm  and  the  song  of  serious  sentiment  express,  in  their 
measured  regularity,  the  adaptation  of  gentle  and  '•mod- 
erate movement '  to  tranquil  and  sedate  feeling. 

"Similar  effects  in  degree  characterize  the  use  of  tlie 
voice  in  recitation  and  in  reading.  Appropriate  elocu- 
tion accommodates  the  movement  of  the  voice  to  every 
mood  of  thought,  from  the  slowest^  prolonged  and  linger' 
ing  utterance  of  deep  contemplation  and  profound  aicc 
to  the  swift  and  rapid  strains  of  lyric  rapture  and  ec 
stasy.  Every  mood  of  mind  has  its  appropriate  *  move- 
ment,' or  '  rate,'  of  utterance,  as  definitely  expressed  as 
its  'quality'  of  voice,  its  characteristic  'force,'  or  its 


VERY   RAPID    MOVEMENT.  137 

peculiar  'pitch,'  *  slide,'  or  'wave.'  Utterance,  to  be 
natural  and  effective,  must  have  the  genuine  expression 
of  its  appropriate  '  movement.'  Solemnity  cannot  exist, 
to  the  ear,  without  slowness^  nor  gayety  without  hrisk- 
ness  of  utterance,  gravity  without  sedate  style,  nor  ani- 
tnatio7i  without  a  lively  '  movement.' 

"  The  power  of '  movement,'  in  the  elocution  of  a  skill- 
ful reader  or  speaker,  is  indefinite,  as  we  may  observe  in 
the  difference  between  a  schoolboy  gabbling  through  his 
task,  in  haste  to  get  rid  of  it,  and  a  great  tragedian, 
whose  whole  soul  is  rapt  in  the  part  of  Cato  uttering 
the  soliloquy  on  immortality,  or  Hamlet  musing  on  the 
great  themes  of  duty,  life  and  death. 

"  A  command  over  the  '  lively '  and  'brisk  movements' 
of  the  voice  is  not  less  important  than  the  power  of  slow 
and  solemn  utterance.  The  style  of  reading  which  is 
most  frequently  introduced  to  enliven  the  evening  circle 
at  home  requires  of  the  reader  the  power  to  '  trip  it  as 
he  goes'  in  the  mood  of  gay  description,  light  satire, 
vivid  dialogue  and  droll  humor. 

"  The  three  principal  faults  of  '  movement,'  which  are 
exemplified  in  the  common  practice  of  reading,  are  tini- 
form  slovmess^  or,  perhaps,  a  drawling  style ;  habitual 
rapidity,  which  prevents  all  deep  and  impressive  effect, 
and,  perhaps,  causes  indistinctiiess  of  enunciation ;  a 
uniform  '  moderate '  '  movement,'  which  never  yields  to 
any  natural  influence  of  emotion — so  as  to  become  ap- 
propriately expressive,  and  pass  from  grave  to  gay,  or 
the  reverse,  by  a  change  in  the  gait  of  the  voice — but 
atters,  automaton-like,  all  feelings  in  the  same  unmean- 
ing and  mechanical  style,  the  voice  marching  on,  with 
one  uniform  measured  step,  over  all  varieties  of  surfaco 
as  regards  the  tenor  of  language  and  the  subject." 


138  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

SECTION  XXXVII. 
ACCIDENTS. 

The  attributes  of  voice  having  been  sufficiently  dis- 
cussed, the  attention  of  the  student  is  now  directed  to 
those  properties  of  utterance  which  may  be  appropriately 
termed  accidents. 

All  the  previously  discussed  elements,  being  essential 
to  the  delivery  of  any  combination  of  words,  have  been 
denominated  attributes ;  but  the  following  being  only 
employed  at  intervals  in  utterance,  may  or  may  not  be 
exhibited  in  the  delivery  of  every  sentence,  and  hence 
are  called  accidents. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  accidents,  except  pauses, 
which  are  simply  the  absence  of  all  attributes,  are  com- 
posed of  two  or  more  attributes ;  while  the  attributes 
themselves  are  original  elements,  and  cannot  therefore 
be  resolved. 

SECTION  XXXVIII.      • 
QUANTITY. 

Quantity  is  the  length  of  time  occupied  in  the  utter- 
ance of  words  and  syllables.  It  might  at  first  view  ap- 
pear that  quantity  is  an  attribute,  since  the  utterance  of 
any  word  or  syllable  occupies  some  time ;  but  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  form  is  the  manner  in  which  the 
sound  is  sent  forth  from  the  organs  ;  that  Effusive  form 
is  the  sound  sent  forth  gently  from  the  organs,  and 
therefore  implies  long  quantity ;  that  Explosive  is  the 
sound  sent  forth  violently  and  abruptly,  and  hence  ne- 
cessitates short  quantity.  Again,  Stress  is  an  element 
of  quantity. 

Regarded  as  a  separate  element,  it  will  be  sufficient 
to  discuss  quantity  under  the  divisions  of  long  and  shorL 


LONG  qua:n'tity. 


139 


SECTION  XXXIX. 
LONG     QUANTITY. 

Long  quantity  is  an  indefinite  prolongation  in  the  ut- 
terance of  syllables  and  words. 

To  cultivate  long  quantity  practice  tlie  following 
words  in  the  Effusive  and  Expulsive  Forms,  in  Pure 
Tone  and  Orotund,  with  different  degrees  of  F"orce, 
Stress  and  Pitch. 

Long  Quantity — Exercise. 


All, 

arm, 

ooze. 

awe, 

fool. 

morn. 

form, 

poor, 

always, 

moon. 

scorn. 

star. 

who. 

roll. 

wall, 

hold. 

noon, 

own. 

home, 

blow. 

roar, 

ocean, 

plume, 

praise 

Long  quantity  is  employed  in  the  expression  of  pathos^ 
solemnity^  sublimity^  grandeur^  reverence^  adoration^ 
shouting^  calling^  commanding^  and  various  other  emo- 
tions and  passions.  The  degree  of  prolongation  will 
depend  on  the  degree  of  emotion,  the  size  of  tlie  au- 
dience, and  other  circumstances.  Two  or  three  illustra- 
tions will  suffice,  as  quantity  has  been  already  illustrated 
under  the  attributes. 


Examples  :  I.  Pathos. 

Moderately  Long  Quantity,  SIoio- Movement,  Low  Pitch,  Median  S^ess. 

Subdued  Force,  Pure  Tone,  Effusive  Form. 

[From  "  Missing." — Anon.] 

.  Far  away,  through  all  the  autumii. 
In  a  lonely,  lonely  glade, 
In  a  dreary  desolation 

That  the  battle-storm  has  made, 


140  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

With  the  rust  upon  his  musket, 
In  the  eve  and  in  the  morn, 

In  the  rank  gloom  of  the  fern  leaves, 
Lies  her  noble,  brave  first-born. 


II.  Sublimity  and  Grandeur. 

Very  Long  Quantity,  Slow  Movement,  Low  Fitch,  Median  Stress^  Ener* 

getic  Force,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form. 

[From"BeUs."— Poe.] 

Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells,  iron  bells  1 

What  a  world  of  solemn  thought  their  monody  compels  I 

In  the  silence  of  the  night,  bow  we  shiver  with  affright 

At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone  I 
For  every  sound  that  floats  from  the  rust  within  their  throats 

Is  a  groan. 
And  the  people — ah,  the  people ;  they  that  dweU  up  in  the  steeple 

AU  alone. 
And  who  tolling,  tolling,  tolling,  in  that  muffled  monotone, 
Feel  a  glory  in  so  rolling  on  the  human  heart  a  stone — 
They  are  neither  man  nor  woman,  they  are  neither  brute  nor  human, 

They  are  ghouls : 
And  their  king  it  is  who  tolls ;  and  he  rolls,  rolls,  rolls,  rolls 
A  paean  from  the  bells  I  and  his  merry  bosom  swells 
With  the  psean  of  the  bells  I  and  he  dances  and  he  yeUs ; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time,  in  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme, 

To  the  pajan  of  the  bells,  of  the  bells  ; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time,  in  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme, 
To  the  tolling  of  the  bells. 

Of  the  beUs,  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells — 
To  the  moaning  and  the  groaning  of  the  bells. 

III.  Shouting  and  Calling. 
Very  Long  Quantity,  Slow  Movement,  High  Pitch,  Thorough  Stress     V»- 
passioned  Force,  Orotund,  Effusive  Form. 
[From  Satan's  Call  to  his  Legions. — Milt(m!\ 

Princes!  Potentates! 
Warriors  I     The  flower  of  heaven  1  once  yours,  now  lost, 
If  such  astonishment  as  this  can  seize  eternal  spirits, 
Awake,  arise,  or  be  forever  fallen  I 


SHORT  QUANTITY.  Ill 

SECTION  XL. 
SHORT    QUANTITY. 

Short  quantity  is  the  instantaneous  utterance  of  syl- 
lables and  words. 

To  obtain  control  of  this  element  of  delivery  practice 
the  following  words  in  the  Explosive  Form,  with  Pure 
Tone  and  Orotund,  and  various  degrees  of  Force,  Stress 
and  Pitch. 

Short  Quantity — Exercise. 


Back, 

hack. 

beck, 
pick. 

neck, 
sick, 

duck, 
tuck. 

rap, 
bat, 
attack. 

dip, 
pit, 
mutter. 

cup, 

lip, 

tatter. 

sup, 

socket, 

batter. 

Short  quantity  is  employed  in  the  expression  of  joy^ 
gladness^  excited  command^  anger^  scorn^  contempt^  re- 
venge^  hate^  and  other  malignant  passions. 

Examples  :  I.  Anger  and  Threatening. 

Short  Quantity^  Rapid  Movement,  High  Pitch,  Radical  and  Final  Stress^ 
Impassioned  Force,  Aspirate- Pectoral  Orotund,  Explosive  Form. 
[From  Death  to  Satan. — Milton.'] 
Back  to  thy  punishment, 
False  fugitive  I  and  to  thy  speed  add  wings ; 
Lest  with  a  whip  of  scorpions  I  pursue 
Thy  Hngering,  or,  with  one  stroke  of  this  dart, 
Strange  horror  seize  thee,  and  pangs  unfelt  before, 

II.  Excited  Command. 

Bhort  Quantitij,  Rapid  Movement,  High  Pitch,  Final  Stress^  Impassioned 

Force,  Pure  Tone,  Explosive  Form. 

[From  "Life-Boat."— ^?io?t.] 

Quick  I  man  the  hfe-boat  I     See  yon  bark, 

That  drives  before  the  blast  1 
There's  a  rock  ahead,  the  fog  is  dark, 

And  the  storm  comes  thick  and  fast. 


142  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Can  human  power,  in  sucli  an  hour, 

Avert  the  doom  that's  o'er  her  ? 
Her  mainmast's  gone,  but  she  still  drives  on 

To  the  fatal  reef  before  her. 

The  life-boat !     Man  the  Ufe-boat ! 

"  The  power  and  beauty  of  vocal  '  expression '  are 
necessarily  dependent,  to  a  great  extent,  on  the  com- 
mand which  a  reader  or  speaker  possesses  over  the  ele- 
ment of  *  quantity.'  Poetry  and  eloquence  derive  their 
audible  character  from  this  source  more  than  from  any 
other.  The  music  of  verse  is  sacrificed  unless  the  nicest 
regard  be  paid  to  '  quantity,'  as  the  basis  of  rhythm  and 
of  meter,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  most  exquisite 
strains  of  well-executed  music,  the  ear  receives  no  pleas- 
ure comparable  to  that  arising  from  poetic  feeling,  em- 
bodied in  the  genuine  melody  of  the  heart,  as  it  gushes 
from  the  expressive  voice  which  has  the  power  of 

"  *  Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
The  hidden  soul  of  harmony.' 

"  Milton,  in  his  Paradise  Lost,  affords  innumerable 
examples  of  the  majestic  grandeur  of  long  '  quantities ' 
in  epic  verse,  and  without  the  just  observance  of  these, 
the  reading  of  the  noblest  passages  in  that  poem  becomes 
■flat  and  dry.  The  same  is  true,  still  more  emphatically, 
of  the  magnificent  language  of  the  poetic  passages  of 
Scripture,  in  those  strains  of  triumph  and  of  adoration 
which  abound  in  the  Book  of  Psalms  and  in  the 
prophets. 

"The  necessity,  on  the  other  hand,  of  obeying  the  la"vf 
of  'immutable  quantity,'  even  in  the  grandest  and  most 
emphatic  expression,  is  an  imperative  rule  of  elocution. 
A  false,  bombastic  swell  of  voice  never  sounds  so  ridicu- 
lous as  when  the  injudicious  and  unskillful  reader  or 


SHORT   QUANTITY.  143 

speaker  attempts  to  interfere  with  the  conditions  of 
speech,  and  to  prolong,  under  a  false  excitement  of  ut- 
terance, those  sounds  which  nature  has  irrevocably  de- 
termined short.  We  have  this  fault  exemplified  in  the 
compound  of  bawling,  drawling  and  redoubled  '  wave ' 
which  some  reciters  contrive  to  crowd  into  the  small 
space  of  the  syllable  vie  in  the  conclusion  of  Moloch's 
war-speech, 

*'  *  "Which  if  not  victory  is  yet  revenge.' 

"  The  fierce  intensity  of  emotion,  in  the  true  utterance 
of  this  syllable,  brings  it  on  the  ear  with  an  instantaneous 
ictus  and  tingling  effect,  resembling  that  of  the  lash  of 
a  whip  applied  to  the  organ.  A  similar  case  occurs  in 
Shylock's  fiendish  half-shriek  on  the  word  hip  in  his  ex- 
clamation referring  to  Antonio  : 

"  '  If  I  do  catch  him  once  upon  the  Mp 

I  will  feed  fat  the  ancient  grudge  I  bear  him  I ' 

"  The  sprawling,  expanded  utterance,  which  the  style 
of  rant  preposterously  endeavors  to  indulge  on  this 
word,  causes  the  voice,  as  it  were,  to  fall  in  pieces  in  the 
attempt,  and  to  betray  the  falsity  of  the  style  which  it 
affects. 

"  But  it  is  in  the  chaste  yet  generous  effect  of  the  ju- 
dicious prolongation  and  indulgence  of  '  mutable  quanti- 
ties '  that  the  skill  of  the  elocutionist,  and  the  power  and 
truth  of  expression,  are  peculiarly  felt.  It  is  in  these 
that  the  watchful  analyst  can  trace  at  once  the  full  soul 
and  the  swelling  heart,  which  would  impel  the  speaker 
to  prolong  indefinitely  the  tones  of  passion,  to  give  '  am- 
ple scope '  and  verge  enough  to  overflowing  feeling,  but 
no  less  surely  the  manly  force  of  judgment,  and  the  dis- 
ciplined good  taste,  which  forbid  any  display  of  mere 
sound  in  the  utterance  of  earnest  emotion." 


144  SCIENCE   OF    ELOCUTION 

SECTION  XLI. 
INFLECTIONS. 

Inflections  are  changes  in  pitch  through  the  concrete 
movement  either  upward  or  downward.  These  vary  in 
degree  according  to  the  sentiment  uttered. 

The  component  elements  of  inflections  are  pitch  and 
movement. 

These  will  be  discussed  under  the  heads  of  rising 
and  falling. 

SECTION  XLII. 
RISING   INFLECTION. 

The  rising  inflection  is  an  upward  movement  of  the 
voice  through  the  concrete  change  of  pitch.  This  in- 
flection may  be  made  in  various  degrees,  passing  through 
difierent  notes  of  the  musical  scale. 

If  a  person,  in  the  utterance  of  a  sentence,  is  interrupted, 
there  will  be  heard  a  slight  rising  slide  running  through 
'  the  interval  of  the  second  of  the  musical  scale,  and  known 
as  a  Rising  Inflection  of  the  Second,  indicating  incom- 
pleteness. A  slight  degree  of  surprise  expressed  in  the 
utterance  of  the  exclamation  Ah  !  exhibits  a  Rising  In- 
flection of  the  Third;  a  stronger  expression  of  the  same 
feeling  will  exhibit  a  Rising  Inflection  of  the  Fifth ;  and  a 
very  strong  utterance  of  the  emotion  will  illustrate  a 
Rising  Inflection  of  the  Octave.  These  inflections  do 
not  have  the  exactness  of  the  musical  scale. 

To  cultivate  the  Rising  Inflection  practice  the  folio \v 
hig  sentences  in  all  the  difierent  degrees  described  abo\'e. 

Rising  Inflection — Exek^.;ise. 

1.  Is  there  no  retreat  ? 

2,  Did  you  say  it  was  I  ? 


RISING   INFLECTIONS.  146 

3.  Did  you,  sir,  throw  up  a  black  crow  ? 

4.  Heard  ye  those  loud  contending  waves  ? 

5.  Dare  you  insult  me  ? 

6.  Will  you  pleasure  me  ? 

7.  Shall  I  know  your  answer  ? 

The  Rising  Inflection  of  the  Second  is  used  chiefly  to 
suspend  the  sense  in  unimpassioned  discourse. 

Examples. 

1.  In  the  ancient  republics  of  Greece  and  Rome, — 

2.  There  are  men  who  get  one  idea, — 

3.  We  cannot  honor  our  country, — 

4.  There  is  no  one  quahty, — 

The  Rising  Inflections  of  the  Third  and  Fifth  are 
used. 

First,  To  ask  a  definite  question,  or  one  that  can  be 
answered  by  yes  or  no. 

Second,  To  express  different  degrees  of  surprise,  aston- 
ishment, or  any  ardent  feeling  in  asking  a  question. 

Third,  To  express  the  lively,  joyous,  playful  emotions. 

Fourth,  To  express  the  first  member  of  words  and 
phrases  in  pairs. 

Fifth,  To  petition,  beg,  fawn,  and  flatter. 

The  above  are  by  no  means  all  the  cases  in  which  the 
rising  inflections  of  the  third  and  fifth  are  employed. 

The  degree  of  inflection  can  only  be  determined  by 
the  sentiment  and  emotion. 

Examples  :  I.  Definite  Question. 

Rising  Inflection  of  Third  and  Fifth. 

1.  Is  not  forgiveness  honorable  to  any  man  ? 

2.  Is  this  the  part  of  wise  men  ? 

10 


146  SCIEI^CE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

3.  Should  I  not  have  devoted  myself  entirely  to  the  service  of  my 
country  ? 

4.  Can  you  think  me  capable  of  so  vile  a  deed  ? 

5.  Are  you  aware  of  the  discreditable  reports  in  circulation  about 
you? 

6.  "What  1  looked  he  frowningly  ? 

II.  Astonishment,  Surprise,  Irony. 

Rising  Infieotion^  Third  and  Fifth. 

1.  Must  I  budge  ? 

2.  Must  I  crouch  under  your  testy  humor  ? 

3.  Must  I  observe  you  ? 

4.  I  an  itching  palm  ? 

5.  Cry  alord,  for  he  is  a  god. 

6.  No  doubt  ye  are  the  people,  and  wisdom  will  die  with  you. 

III.  Joyous,  Lively  Emotions. 

Rising  Injiection^  Third  and  Fifth. 

'Twas  the  night  before  Christmas,  when  all  through  the  house 

Not  a  creature  was  stirring,  not  even  a  mouse, 

And  mamma  in  her  kerchief,  and  I  in  my  cap, 

Had  just  settled  our  brains  for  a  long  winter's  nap, 

When  out  on  the  lawn  there  rose  such  a  clatter — 

I  sprang  from  the  bed  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 

IV.  First  Member  of  Pairs. 

Rising  Inflection^  Third  and  Fifth. 

For  I  am  persuaded  that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor 
principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor 
height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us 
fr  )m  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 

Y.  Fawning,  Flattering,  Begging. 

Rising  Inflection^  Third  and  Fifth. 

1.  Nay,  I  beseech  you,  sir,  be  not  out  with  me. 

2.  I  pray  thee  remember  I  have  done  thee  worthy  service;  told 


RISING  INFLECTIONS.  147 

thee  no  lies,  made  no  mistakings,  served  without  gri  dge  or  grum- 
blings. 

3.  Alas !  what  need  you  be  so  boisterous  rough ; 
I  will  not  struggle,  I  will  stand  stone  still. 
For  Heaven's  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound  I 
Nay,  hear  me,  Hubert  1  drive  these  men  away 
And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  lamb ; 
I  will  not  stir,  nor  wince,  nor  speak  a  word, 
Nor  look  upon  the  irons  angrily. 

The  Rising  Inflection  of  the  Octave  is  employed  to 
express  intense  surprise^  wonder  and  astonishment. 

Examples — Wondek,  Surpeise,  Astonishment. 

Rising  Inflection  of  Octave, 

1.  .  .  .  Seems,  madam? 

Nay,  it  is ;  I  know  not  seems. 

2.  Saw  who  ? 

My  lord,  the  king,  your  father. 
The  king?     My  father? 

3.  Ecstasy. 

4.  Hath  a  dog  money  ? 

SECTION  XLHI. 
FALLING   INFLECTION. 

The  falling  inflection  is  a  downward  movement  of  the 
voice  through  the  concrete  change  of  pitch. 

The  falling,  like  the  rising  inflection,  admits  of  various 
degrees. 

If  a  person  in  reply  to  a  question  utters  the  word  no, 
expressing  a  mild  dissent,  the  voice  will  pass  from  the 
middle  pitch  downward,  exhibiting  a  falling  inflection 
of  a  second  or  third  ;  when  uttered  so  as  to  express 
stronger  dissent  it  will  commence  on  a  higher  pitch,  and 
end  in  a  downward  slide  of  a  fifth  ;  and  when  uttered  in 


148  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

a  very  strong  or  passionate  dissent,  the  downward  slide 
will  run  through  a  whole  octave. 

To  acquire  control  of  the  falling  inflection  practice 
each  of  the  following  sentences  in  all  the  above  described 
degrees. 

Exercises. 

1.  By  virtue  we  secure  happiness. 

2.  All  high  truth  is  the  union  of  two  contradictories. 

3.  Crime  and  punishment  grow  out  of  one  stem. 

4.  The  mind,  that  does  not  converse  with  itself,  is  an 
idle  wanderer. 

5.  Lowliness  is  the  base  of  every  virtue. 

6.  Trust  men  and  they  will  be  true  to  you. 

7.  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  will  not  do  it. 

8.  Go  preach  to  the  coward. 

The  Falling  Inflection  is  used. 

First,  To  express  completion  of  thought. 

Second,  To  express  in  diflerent  degrees  positiveness, 
firmness,  confidence,  authority,  declaration,  determina- 
tion, command,  defiance,  indignation,  etc. 

Third,  To  answer  questions. 

Fourth,  To  ask  indefinite  questions,  or  those  beginning 
with  relative  pronouns  or  adverbs,  and  not  admitting  of 
an  answer  by  yes  or  no. 

Fifth,  To  give  emphasis  to  words  which  otherwise 
would  have  the  rising  inflection. 

Examples  :  I.  Completion  of  Thought. 

Falling  InJlecUon^  Second  and  Third. 

1.  A  wise  son  maketh  a  glad  fainer,  but  a  foolish  son  is  the  heaTi- 
uess  of  his  mother. 

2.  I  come  not  here  to  talk. 


FALLmG  INFLECTION.  149 

3.  It  is  natural  m  man  to  indulge  In  the  illusions  of  hope. 

4.  It  is  my  living  sentiment. 

6    Shakspeare  was  the  greatest  tragic  writer. 
6.  Charity  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind. 

II.   POSITIVENESS,  CONPIDENCE,  DETERMINATION,  ET(% 

Falling  Injlection,  Third,  Fifth,  and  Octave. 
1   The  war  must  go  on. 

2.  On  such  occasions  I  will  place  myself  on  the  extreme  bound- 
ary of  my  right,  and  bid  defiance  to  the  arm  that  would  push  me 
from  it. 

3.  We  shall  not  fail. 

4.  I  am  commissioned  of  heaven  to  perform  this  work. 

5.  It  is  my  living  sentiment,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  it  shall  bo 
my  dying  sentiment,  independence  now  and  independence  forever. 

6.  I  cannot,  my  lords ;  I  will  not  join  in  misfortune  and  disgrace. 

t.  Forward  the  Light  Brigade. 

8.  Thy  threats,  thy  mercies,  I  defy  1 
And  give  thee  in  thy  teeth  the  lie  1 

III.  Answer  to  Questions. 

Falling  Inflection,  Third,  Fifth,  and  Octave. 

1.  What  would  content  you?  Talent?  No.  Enterprise?  No. 
Courage?  No.  Virtue?  No.  The  men  whom  you  would  select 
should  possess,  not  one,  but  all  of  these. 

2.  Are  they  Hebrews  ?  So  am  I.  Are  they  Israelites  ?  So  am  I. 
Are  they  the  seed  of  Abraham  ?  So  am  I.  Are  they  ministers  of 
Christ?     I  am  more. 

3.  Can  honor  sr^«  a  leg  ?  No.  Or  an  arm  ?  No.  Or  take  away 
the  grief  of  a  wound  ?  No.  Honor  hath  no  skill  in  surgery,  then  ? 
No.  What  is  honor  ?  A  word.  What  is  that  word  honor  ?  AIL 
Who  hath  it  ?  He  that  died  on  Wednesday.  Doth  he  feel  it  ?  No. 
Doth  he  hear  it?    No.    Is  it  insensible,  then?    Yes,  to  the  dead. 


150  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

But  will  it  not  live  with  the  living?    No.    Why?    Detraction  will 
not  suffer  it. 

4.  With  whom  may  Napoleon  be  compared?  With  Diogenes  in 
acuteness  of  intellect,  with  Ca3Sar  in  ambition,  and  with  Alexander  in 
arms. 

Was  it  ambition  that  induced  Regulus  to  return  to  Carthage  ?  No ; 
but  love  of  country,  and  respe^^t  for  truth. 

Wherein  did  Chatham  surpass  Burke  ?  Not  in  argument,  uor  in 
the  sublimity  of  his  thoughts,  nor  yet  in  the  richness  and  splendor  of 
his  diction,  but  in  personal  weight  of  character,  and  in  the  exterior 
graces  and  expressive  power  of  the  orator. 

lY.  Indefinite  Questions. 

Falling  Inflection,  Third,  Fifth,  and  Octave. 

1.  Why  reason  ye  these  things  in  your  hearts  ? 

2.  Who  is  here  so  base  that  he  would  be  a  bondman  ? 

3.  Why  doth  this  man  thus  speak  blasphemies  ? 

4.  What  shall  we  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ? 

5.  From  whence  hath  this  man  these  things  ? 

6.  Who  hath  warned  you  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  ? 

7.  To  what  shall  I  liken  the  men  of  this  generation 

8.  Can  no  support  be  offered  ?     Can  no  encouragement  be  given  ? 

9.  But  where  is  the  iron-bound  prisoner  ?    Where  ? 

Ah  I  what  is  that  flame  which  now  bursts  on  his  eye  ? 

10.  Who  covered  the  earth  with  such  a  pleasing  variety  of  fruits 
and  flowers  ?  Who  gave  them  their  delightful  fragranr«^,  and  painted 
them  with  such  exquisite  colors  ?  Who  causeth  the  same  water  to 
whiten  in  the  lily  and  blush  in  the  rose  ?  Do  not  these  things  prove 
the  existence  of  a  power  infinitely  superior  to  that  of  any  Jflnite  being  ? 

V.  Emphatic  Words. 

Falling  Inflection,  Fifth  and  Octave, 

1.  If  we  fail  it  can  be  no  worse  with  us. 

2.  I'd  rather  be  a  dog,  and  bay  the  moon,  tlian  such  a  Roman 


CIRCUMFLEX.  151 

3.  I  dare  accusation.     I  defy  the  honorable  gentleman. 

4.  All  this  ?    Ay,  and  more. 

No  element  of  utterance  is  more  important  in  giving 
Bignificance  to  speech  than  inflection. 

It  constitutes  that  part  of  modulation  which  renders 
expression  addressed  to  the  understanding  intelligible. 

In  the  reading  and  recitation  of  verse  it  is  the  proper 
management  of  the  inflections  that  prevent  monotony  on 
the  one  hand,  and  chanting  on  the  other. 

"  So  important  is  a  just  mixture  of  inflections  that  the 
moment  they  are  neglected  our  pronunciation  becomes 
forceless  and  monotonous.  If  the  sense  of  a  sentence  re- 
quire the  voice  to  adopt  the  rising  inflection  on  any  par- 
ticular word,  either  in  the  middle  or  at  the  end  of  the 
phrase,  variety  and  harmony  demand  the  falling  inflec- 
tion on  one  of  the  preceding  words;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  emphasis,  harmony,  or  a  completion  of  sense, 
require  the  falling  inflection  on  any  word,  the  word  im- 
mediately preceding  almost  always  demands  the  rising 
inflection,  so  that  these  inflections  of  voice  are  in  an 
order  nearly  alternate." 

SECTION  XLIV. 
CIRCUMFLEX. 

The  circumflex  is  a  combination  of  the  two  inflections 
on  the  same  syllable  or  word.  Sometimes  the  upward 
movement  comes  first,  and  sometimes  the  downward. 
Often  more  than  two  inflections  are  combined  on  the 
game  word,  so  that  a  great  variety  of  waves  are  possible 
in  speech.  Dr.  Rush  has  actually  enumerated  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty  varieties.  An  extended  discussion  of 
these  would  be  of  little  practical  advantage  to  the  gen- 
eral Btudeiit. 


152  SniENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

A  few  illustrations  must  suffice. 

The  Circumflex  is  employed  chiefly  in  tlie  expression 
of  irony ^  sarcasm,  sneer,  drollery,  etc. 

Examples. 

1.  The  atrocious  crime  of  being  a  young  man,  \^hich,  with  so  much 
spirit  and  decency  the  gentleman  lias  charged  upon  me.  J  shall  neither 
attempt  to  paUiate  nor  deny. 

2.  A  second  Daniel,  a  Daniel^  Jew  I 
Now^  infidel,  I  have  thee  on  the  hip. 

A  Daniel,  still  I  say ;  a  second  Daniel  I 

I  thank  thee,  Jew,  for  teaching  me  that  word. 

3.  Hath  a  dog  money  ?    Is  it  possible 

A  cur  can  lend  three  thousand  ducats  ? 

4.  Yet  this  is  Rome,  and  we  are  Romans. 

5.  Yet  Brutus  says  he  was  ambitious ; 
And  Brutus  is  an  honorable  man. 

6.  Has  the  gentleman  done  ?    Has  he  completely  done  ? 

The  Circumflex  is  one  of  the  most  impressive  elements 
of  expression  in  the  whole  range  of  vocal  efiect. 

Mockery,  raillery,  irony,  and  sarcasm  cannot  be  given 
without  it. 

An  intelligent  and  discriminating  use  of  this  element 
is  indispensable,  however,  to  its  right  eflect. 

Adopted  too  frequently  and  expressed  too  pointedly, 
it  offends  the  ear. 


SECTION  XLV. 
CADENCE. 

Cadence  is  that  lowering  of  the  voice  at  the  close  of 
the  sentence,  which  indicates  that  the  sense  is  complete. 
This  is  done  by  dropping  the  voice  on  the  last  three 


CADENCE.  153 

syllables,  either  in  the  discrete  or  concrete  movement,  at 
least  three  full  tones  lower  than  that  which  prevailed  in 
the  body  of  the  sentence. 

The  note  to  which  the  cadence  falls,  and  the  space 
through  which  it  descends,  will  depend  on  the  emotion 
and  the  sentiment. 

In  strong  emotion  the  cadence  is  both  abrupt  and  low, 
In  gentle  emotion  it  is  gradual  and  moderate,  while  on 
unemotional  thought  it  is  slight. 

No  element  of  utterance  more  demands  the  watchful 
attention  of  the  living  teacher,  or  is  more  difficult  for 
the  pupil  to  acquire  from  books,  than  that  of  cadence. 

Practice  the  following  sentences  with  different  degrees 
of  cadence. 

Examples. 

1.  I  love  it,  I  love  it,  and  cannot  tear 

My  soul  from  my  mother's  old  arm-chair  I 

2.  "WTien  the  evening  comes  with  its  beautiful  smile, 
And  our  eyes  are  closing  to  slumber  awhile, 
May  that  "  G-reenwood  "  of  soul  be  in  sight  I 

3.  The  sorrow  for  the  dead  is  the  only  sorrow  from  which  we  re- 

fuse to  be  divorced. 

4.  "We'U  all  meet  again  in  the  morning. 

5.  In  teaching  me  the  way  to  live, 
It  taught  me  how  to  die. 

6.  He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan, 
Without  a  grave,  unknelled,  uncoffined,  and  unknown. 

t    Be  armed  with  courage  against  thyself,  against  thy  passions,  and 
against  flatterers. 

8.  The  true  American  patriot  is  ever  a  worshiper. 

Perfect  command  of  Cadence  is  a  rare  accomplish- 
ment. It  is  one  of  the  distinguishing  marks  of  excel- 
lence in  the  cultivated  reader. 


154  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Pauses. 

Pauses  are  supensions  of  the  voice  between  words  and 
sentences.  No  definite  rules  can  be  given  to  guide  the 
reader  or  speaker  in  the  use  of  pauses.  Their  length 
and  frequency  can  be  determined  only  by  the  sen- 
timent. 

Unimpassioned  didactic  thought  demands  but  moder- 
ate pauses;  gay,  lively  and  joyous  thought  very  short 
pauses ;  solemnity,  sublimity,  grandeur  and  reverence, 
long  pauses ;  while  impassioned  thought  may  demand 
long  or  short  pauses. 

A  pause  should  always  be  made  before  and  after  an 
emphatic  word. 

It  will  be  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  pauses  re- 
ferred to  are  not  indicated  by  the  marks  of  punctuation. 
These  may  or  may  not  harmonize  with  the  rhetorical 
pauses. 


Examples  :  I.  Didactic  Thought. 

Moderate  Pauses. 
[From  "  Expression." —  Winthrop.'] 

A  woman's  voice  can  tell  a  long  history  of  sorrow  in  a  single  word.. 
This  wonderful  instrument,  our  voice,  alters  its  timbre  with  every 
note  it  yields,  as  the  face  changes  with  every  look,  until  at  last  the 
dominant  emotion  is  master,  and  gives  quality  to  tone  and  character 
to  expression.  .  .  . 

Every  look,  tone,  gesture  of  a  man  is  a  symbol  of  his  complete  na- 
ture. If  we  apply  the  microscope  severely  enough  we  can  discern 
the  fine  organism  by  which  the  soul  sends  itself  out  in  every  act  of 
the  being.  And  the  more  perfectly  developed  the  creature  the  more 
significant,  and  yet  the  more  mysterious,  is  every  habit,  and  every 
motion  mightier  than  habit,  of  body  and  soul. 


PAUSES.  155 

II.  Solemnity. 

Long  Pauses. 
[From  "  Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty."— xSA^^  J 

The  day  becomes  more  solemn  and  serene 

When  noon  is  past ;  there  is  a  harmony 

In  autumn,  and  a  luster  in  its  sky, 
"Which  through  the  summer  is  not  heard  nor  seen, 
As  if  it  could  not  be,  as  if  it  had  not  been  1 

Thus  let  thy  power,  which  hke  the  truth 

Of  nature  on  my  passive  youth 
Descended,  to  my  onward  hfe  supply 

Its  calm,  to  one  who  worships  thee, 

And  every  form  containing  thee, 

Whom,  Spirit,  fair,  thy  spells  did  bind 
To  fear  himself,  and  love  all  human  kind. 

III.   Solemnity  and  Sublimity. 

Very  Long  Pauses. 
[From  "  Hamlet's  Soliloquy." — Shakspeare."] 

To  be,  or  not  to  be,  that  is  the  question : 

Whether  'tis  nobler  in  the  mind  to  suffer 

The  slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune  ; 

Or  to  take  arms  against  a  sea  of  troubles, 

And,  by  opposing,  end  them  ?    To  die ;  to  sleep ; 

No  more :  and,  by  a  sleep,  to  say  we  end 

The  heart-ache,  and  the  thousand  natural  shocks 

That  flesh  is  heir  to — 'tis  a  consummation 

Devoutly  to  be  wished.     To  die ;  to  sleep ; 

To  sleep  1  perchance  to  dream;  ay,  there's  the  rub; 

For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come, 

When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil, 

Must  give  us  pause :  There's  the  respect, 

That  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life  : 

For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  time, 

The  oppressor's  wrong,  the  proud  man's  contumely. 

The  pangs  of  despised  love,  the  law's  delay. 

The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns 

That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 

Wlien  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 


156  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

With  a  bare  bodkin  ?    Who  would  fardels  bear  • 
To  grunt  and  sweat  under  a  weary  life ; 
But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death, 
The  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveler  returns — puzzles  the  will ; 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have, 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of? 
Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all; 
And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought ; 
And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment, 
With  this  regard,  their  currents  turn  awry, 
And  lose  the  name  of  action. 

IV.  Animated. 

Short  Fuuses. 
[From  "  L' Allegro."— Jfi7fen-.] 

Straight  mine  eye  hath  caught  new  pleasures. 
Whilst  the  landscape  round  it  measures ; 
Russet  lawns,  and  fallows  gray,   . 
Where  the  nibbling  flocks  do  stray ; 
Mountains  on  whose  barren  breast 
The  laboring  clouds  do  often  rest : 
Meadows  trim  with  daisies  pied : 
Shallow  brooks,  and  rivers  wide : 
Towers  and  battlements  it  sees 
Bosom'd  high  in  tufted  trees. 
Where  perhaps  some  beauty  lies, 
The  Cynosure  of  neighboring  eyes. 

V.  Lively,  Animated  Description. 

Very  Short  Pauses. 
[From  "  How  they  Brought  the  Good  News  from  Ghent  to  AiK.'"--'£rowni7i0,] 

I  sprang  to  the  stirrup,  and  Joris,  and  he : 

I  galloped,  Dirck  galloped,  we  galloped  all  three ; 

"  God-speed !  "  cried  the  watch  as  the  gate-bolts  undrew; 

"  Speed !  "  echoed  the  wall  to  us  galloping  through* 

Behind  shut  the  postern,  the  light  sank  to  rest, 

And  into  the  midnight  we  galloped  abreast. 


PAUSES.  157 

The  careful  observance  of  the  "rhetorical"  pause  is 
one  of  the  chief  means  of  distinctness  in  the  expression 
of  thought.  In  narration  and  description^  and  in  plain 
didactic  style^  it  is  equally  important  that  the  successive 
sounds  of  the  voice  should  be  relieved  from  each  other 
in  portions  best  adapted  to  present  the  component  parts 
of  the  whole  in  a  clear,  distinct,  impressive  manner,  ac- 
cording to  their  comparative  length  and  importance. 
The  thought  or  sentiment  which  is  thus  communicated 
falls  on  the  ear  with  a  definite  and  satisfactory  succes- 
sion of  sounds,  which  the  mind  easily  receives  and  ap- 
preciates. The  parts  being  thus  exactly  given,  each 
takes  its  own  due  weight,  and  at  the  same  time  enhances 
the  effect  of  the  whole.  The  result  is  that  the  com- 
munication is  fully  understood  and  makes  its  just 
impression. 

Young  readers  in  particular  are  often  deficient  in  this 
most  striking  and  impressive  of  all  the  effects  of  appro- 
priate reading  and  recitation.  It  becomes,  therefore,  a 
matter  of  great  moment  in  practice  to  cultivate  the 
habit  of  watching  the  effect  of  full  and  long  pauses  in- 
troduced at  appropriate  places.  Without  these  the  most 
solemn  passages  of  Scripture,  and  the  poetry  of  Milton 
and  of  Young,  produce  no  effect,  comparatively,  on  the 
mind ;  while  reading,  aided  by  their  "expressive  silence," 
seems  to  be  inspired  with  an  unlimited  power  ovej*  the 
sympathies  of  the  soul. 

SECTION  XLVn. 
EMPHASIS. 

Emphasis  is  a  peculiar  utterance  given  to  words  and 
phrases,  by  which  they  are  rendered  specially  significant. 

This  may  be  given  by  an  increase  of  Force  or  Stress. 
by  a  change  in  Quality,  Form,  Pitch,  or  Movement,  or 


158  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

by  a  change  in  the  combination  of  two  or  more  of  these 
attributes. 

Variety  and  power  of  emphasis  require  control  of  all 
the  previously  discussed  elements  of  utterance.  The 
kind  and  degree  of  emphasis  which  is  to  be  given  can 
only  be  determined  by  the  sentiment,  and  the  occasion 
or  circumstances  of  the  delivery.  Where  the  whole 
passage  is  of  an  earnest  or  impassioned  character  the 
emphatic  words  require  greater  prominence. 

The  highly-wrought  emphasis  of  impassioned  oratory 
would  be  wholly  out  of  place  in  a  parlor  reading  of  the 
same  speech,  and  in  large  audiences  a  much  stronger 
emphasis  is  in  place  than  in  small  ones. 

"  Emphasis  is  in  speech  what  coloring  is  in  painting. 
It  admits  of  all  possible  degrees,  and  must,  to  indicate  a 
particular  degree  of  distinction,  be  more  or  less  intense 
according  to  the  ground  word  or  current  melody  of  the 
discourse." 

An  attentive  analysis  of  Emphasis  will  discover  the 
fact  that  in  the  utterance  of  any  emphatic  word  or 
phrase  no  one  mode  of  emphasis  alone  prevails,  but  that 
a  greater  or  less  combination  of  modes  always  exists. 
In  Emphasis  of  Force,  though  Force  may  largely  pre- 
dominate as  an  element  of  Emphasis,  still  it  will  gen- 
erally be  combined  with  Stress  and  Pitch,  and  Emphasis 
of  Pitch  will  be  combined  with  Force  and  Stress. 

The  same  will  be  equally  true  of  all  other  modes. 
The  following  illustrations  indicate  the  predominant 
mode  of  emphasis  in  each. 

SECTION  XLVIII. 
EMPHASIS    OF   FORCE. 

Emphasis  of  force  is  the  utterance  of  certain  words  or 
phrases  with  an  increase  or  decrease  of  the  prevailing 


EMPHASIS  OF  STRESS.  159 

force.  This  style  of  emphasis  is  usually  employed  in 
unimpassioned  discourse  to  direct  special  attention  to 
certain  words  and  phrases. 

Examples. 

1.  The  repose  of  the  soul  is  exercise^  not  rest. 

2.  Study  to  show  thyself  a  man. 

3.  I  have  been  accused  of  ambition  in  presenting  this  measure. 
4   I  come  not  here  to  talk, 

5.  Ignorance  is  the  mother  of  error. 

6.  Learning  is  wealth  to  the  poor,  and  an  ornament  to  the  rich. 

SECTION  XLIX. 
EMPHASIS    OF    STRESS. 

Emphasis  of  stress  is  either  the  prevailing  stress  ot 
the  utterance  intensified,  or  an  entire  change  of  Stress 
on  certain  words  and  phrases.  "  This  is  the  most  ob- 
vious and  easy  way  of  emphasizing,  and,  therefore,  the 
most  common,  even  where  it  is  altogether  inappropriate. 
Hence  it  is  necessary  to  guard  against  the  too  frequent 
ase  of  it."  When  judiciously  employed,  this  form  of 
<jmphasis  is  very  significant. 

Examples — Radical  Stress. 

1 .  Back  to  thy  punishment,  false  fugitive  I 

2.  Be  ready,  gods,  with  all  your  thunderbolts  I 
Dash  him  to  pieces  1 

3.  "  Tried  and  convicted  traitor  I "    Who  says  this  ?  p 

4   Banished  from  Rome  1  what's  banished  but  set  free 
From  daily  contact  of  the  things  I  loathe  ? 

Median  Stress. 

t.  *Tis  heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 
And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 
Eternity  I  thou  pleasing,  dreadful  thought ! 


160  SCIENCE   OF  T7,L0CUTI0N. 

2.  What  a  piece  of  work  is  man  ! 

How  noble  in  reason  I  how  infinite  in  faculties ! 

lis.  form  and  Trwving  how  express  and  admirable! 

In  action  how  like  an  angel!    In  apprehension  how  like  a  godt 

3.  0  change  t  0  wondrous  change  ! 
Burst  are  the  prison  bars. 


Final  Stress. 

1.  Te  gods,  it  doth  amaze  me  1 

A  man  of  such  a  feeble  temper  should 
So  get  the  start  of  the  majestic  world, 
And  bear  the  palm  alone. 

2.  ThoM  slave!  \ho\x  wretch!  \hoM  coward! 

3.  Let  the  consequences  be  what  they  wiL 
I  am  determined  to  proceed. 


Compound  Stress. 
1    Arm  !  arm  !  ye  heavens,  against  these  perjured  kings  f 

2.  A  widow  cries  1  be  husband  to  me,  heavens  I 

3.  Ecstasy!    My  pulse  as  yours  doth  temperately  keep  time. 

Thorough  Stress. 

L  Revenge  is  stamped  upon  my  spear, 
And  blood^s  my  battle  cry. 

2.  I  ask, "Why  not  "traitor "  unqualified  by  an  epithet ?  I  will  tell 
him.  It  was  because  he  durst  not.  It  was  the  act  of  a  coiuard,  who 
raises  his  arm  to  strike,  but  has  not  courage  to  give  the  blow. 

3.  If  ye  are  beasts,  then  stand  here  like  fat  oxen  waiting  for  the 
butcher's  knife ;  if  ye  are  men,  follow  me. 

4.  0  Borne!  Borne!  thou  hast  been  a  tender  nurse  to  me. 


EMPHASIS  OF  QUALITY.  161 

SECTION  L. 
EMPHASIS    OF    QUALITY. 

Emphasis  of  quality  is  a  change,  on  certain  words 
and  phrases,  from  the  prevailing  quality  to  that  of  8ome 
other. 

This  change  is  usually  from  a  Pure  Tone  or  Orotund 
to  Aspirate,  Pectoral,  or  Guttural.  This  is  a  very  im- 
pressive form  of  emphasis. 

Examples — Aspirate. 

1.  And  then  I  cried  for  vengeance. 

2.  Give  me  liberty  or  give  me  death. 

3.  If  I  were  an  American,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  while  a  foreign 
troop  remained  upon  my  country's  shores  I  would  never  lay  down 
my  arras.    Never  !  never  !  never  I 

4.  A  lowly  knee  to  earth  he  bent ;  lila  father's  hand  he  took 
Wfiat  was  there  in  its  touch  that  all  his  fiery  spirit  shook  f 

6.  We  are  slaves. 

Pectoral  Quality. 

1.  0  that  the  slave  had  forty  thousand  Hves  ! 
My  great  revenge  had  stomach  for  them  all. 

2.  You  souls  of  geese^ 

That  bear  the  shapes  of  men,  how  have  you  run 

From  slaves  that  apes  would  beat  I — Pluto  and  heUI 

All  hurt  behind;  hacks  red,  B.nd  faces  pale 

With  flight  and  aguedfear!    Mend,  and  charge  home^ 

Or,  by  the  fires  of  heaven,  I'll  leave  the  foe 

And  make  my  wars  on  you :  look  toH.     Come  on. 

Guttural  Quality. 

1.  Whence  and  what  art  thou,  execrable  shape  1 

3.  Thou  stand'st  ax  length  before  me  undisguised, 
Of  all  earth's  groveling  crew  the  most  accursed. 

11 


162  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Thou  uorm!  thou  viper!  to  tby  native  earth 
Return !    Away  I    Thou  art  too  base  for  man 
To  tread  upon.     Thou  scum !  thou  r^tik  I 


SECTION  LI. 
EMPHASIS    OF   PITCH. 

Emphasis  of  pitch  is  a  sudden  raising  or  lowering  of 
pitch  on  certain  words  and  phrases,  either  through  the 
discrete  or  concrete  movement. 

Discrete  Emphasis  of  Pitch  is  expressed  by  any  varia- 
tion on  the  emphatic  word  or  phrase  from  the  prevailing 
pitch. 

Examples — Discrete  Movement. 
Very  High  Fitch. 

X.  Simpson  came  up  with  his  face  pale  as  ashes,  and  said,  *'  Cap 
tain,  the  ship  is  on  fire." 

Then  "  Fire  !  fire  I  fire  !  "  on  shipboard. 

2.  Hurrah^  hurrah^  for  Sheridan  ! 
Hurrah^  hurrah^  for  horse  and  man  I 

3.  ''  Charge  !  "     Trump  and  drum  awoke, 
Onward  the  bondmen  broke ; 
Bayonet  and  saber-stroke 

Vainly  opposed  their  rush. 

Very  Low  Fitch, 
[From  "The  Oath."— 7:  S,  Bead.'\ 

Ye  freemen,  how  long  will  ye  stifle 

The  vengeance  that  justice  inspires  ? 
With  treason  how  long  will  ye  trifle 

And  shame  the  proud  name  of  your  sires  ? 
Out,  out  with  the  swo  1  and  the  rifle 

In  defense  of  your  homes  and  your  fires. 


EMPHASIS   OF   PITCH.  163 

The  flag  of  the  old  Ee volution 

Swear  firmly  to  serve  and  uphold, 
That  no  treasonous  breath  of  pollution 
Shall  tarnish  one  star  of  its  fold. 
Swear! 
And  hark,  the  deep  voices  replying, 
From  the  graves  where  your  fathers  are  lying, 
*'  Swear,  0  swear  !  " 

The  Concrete  Emphasis  of  Pitch  is  expressed  by  the 
voice  sliding  either  up  or  down  on  the  emphatic  Avord 
or  phrase. 

Examples — Con^crete  Movement. 
Emphasis  of  the  Rising  Tliird. 
This  is  the  emphasis  of  simple  interrogation,  and  is 
also  employed  to  express  the  lower  shades  of  emphaiio 
distinction,  as  they  occm'  in  the  diatonic  melody. 

1.  Gavest  thou  the  goodly  wings  to  the  peacocks  f  or  wings  and 

feathers  unto  the  ostrich  f 

2.  I  love  not  man  the  less,  but  nature  more, 
From  these  our  interviews. 

3.  Yet  Brutits  says  he  was  ambitious. 

Emphasis  of  the  Rising  Fifth. 
The  examples  which  illustrate  the  two  pi*eccding  forms 
may  be  used  for  illustration  here  by  adding  to  the  en- 
ergy with  which  they  are  pronounced.  The  intervals  of 
the  fifth  are  of  more  rare  occurrence  than  the  third. 
The  following  additional  examples  must  suffice. 

Concrete. 

1.  Wouldst  thou  be  Idng  f 

2.  "What  though  tlie  field  be  lost  ?  all  is  not  lost. 

NoTK. — When  the  emphatic  rise,  as  in  this  last  example,  occurs  on  the  last  sylla- 
ble or  word  of  a  declarative  sentence,  it  must  of  course  annul  the  cadence ;  so  also 
if  it  occurs  near  the  close 


164  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Emphasis  of  the  Rising  Octave. 
This  is  the  most  earnest  expression  of  interrogative 
intonation,  and  is  never  used  in  grave  discourse.  Its 
appropriate  expression  is  that  of  sneer  or  raillery*  The 
rise  is  concrete  when  it  occurs  on  long  syllables ;  when 
on  short  or  immutable  syllables,  it  is  formed  by  a 
change  of  radical  pitch. 

OoTicrete, 

1.  Moneys  is  your  suit. 
What  should  I  say  to  you  ?     Should  I  not  say, 
Hath  a  dog  money  ?     Is  it  possible 

A  cur  can  lend  three  thousand  ducats  ? 

2.  A  king's  son  ?     You  Prince  of  Wales  ? 

Emphasis  of  Downward  Third. 

1.  Does  beauteous  Tamar  view,  in  this  clear  fount, 
Herself,  or  heaven  f 

2.  You  are  the  queen^  your  husband's  brother's  wife.  . 

Examples  of  Downward  Fifth, 

1.  Seems,  madam  !  nay,  it  is ;  I  know  not  seems. 

2.  Before  the  sun,  before  the  heavens^  thou  wert. 

Example  of  Downward  Octave. 

Art  thou  that  traitor  angel?  art  thou  he 

Who  first  broke  peace  in  heaven,  and  faith  till  then 

Unbroken  ?  and  in  proud  rebellious  arms, 

Drew  after  him  the  third  part  of  heaven's  sons. 

Conjured  against  the  Highest  ?     For  which  both  thou 

And  they,  outcast  from  Grod,  are  here  condemned 

To  waste  eternal  days  in  woe  and  pain. 

And  reckonest  thou  thyself  with  spirits  of  heaven, 

Hell-doomed,  and  breath'st  defiance  here,  and  scorn, 

Where  I  reign  King  ?  and,  to  enrage  thee  more, 

Thy  King  and  Lord. 


EMPHASIS   OF   MOVEMENT.  165 

The  Waves  of  the  Voice  are  also  often  employed  to 
give  emphasis,  particularly  in  the  expression  of  irony 
and  scorn. 

E  X  AMPLES — Waves. 

1.  0  upright  judge  !    Mark,  Jew!  a  learned  judge  ! 

2.  The  atrocicus  crime  of  being  a  young  man. 

3.  O  f  but  he  paused  upon  the  brink  I 

SECTION  LIl. 
EMPHASIS    OF    MOVEMENT. 

Emphasis  of  movement  is  a  sudden  change,  on  certain 
words  and  phrases,  from  the  prevailing  movement. 

Examples. 

Slow  Movement. 

1.  Not  among  the  prisoners — Missing  ! 

That  was  all  the  message  said. 

2.  "  Cyrus  Drew  1  " — then  a  silence  fell — 
This  time  no  answer  followed  the  call. 

Rapid  Movement. 

3.  His  person  partook  the  character  of  his  mind :  if  the  one  never 
yielded  in  the  cabinet^  the  other  never  lent  in  the  field.  Nature  had  no 
obstacles  that  he  did  not  surmount,  space  no  opposition  that  he  did 
not  spurn;  and  whether  amid  Alpine  rocks,  Arabian  sands,  or  polar 
snows,  he  seemed  proof  against  peril,  and  empowered  with  ubiquity  1 
The  whole  continent  of  Europe  trembled  at  beholding  the  audacity  of 
his  designs  and  the  miracle  of  their  execution. 

Great  care  will  be  required  on  the  part  of  the  public 
speaker  to  guard  against  too  frequent  emphasis.  When 
there  are  many  words  in  a  passage  strongly  significant 
of  emotion  or  passion,  a  temptation  arises  to  load  the 
delivery  with  emphasis. 


166  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  too  frequent  emphasis 
destroys  the  effect  of  emphasis,  which  consists  essen- 
tially in  distinguishing  the  most  significant  words  and 
phrases  from  the  others  with  which  they  stand  imme- 
diately connected.  Again,  great  care  will  be  required 
to  guard  against  the  restriction  of  the  voice  to  but  one 
or  two  of  the  many  modes  of  emphasis,  and  the  excess- 
ive use  of  the  particnlar  mode  employed,  so  that  color- 
ing becomes  caricaturing. 

"  Many  readers  and  speakers  seem  to  have  no  practical 
notion  of  any  other  mode  of  empliasizing  a  word,  but 
by  throwing  upon  it  a  decided  stress  of  voice,  and  their 
delivery  is  characterized  by  a  perpetual  occurrence  of 
ictus  upon  ictus ^  stroke  upon  stroke,  of  heavy  enunciation 
that  soon  wearies  the  ear,  and  at  the  same  time  fails  of 
its  designed  effect.  There  being  no  distinction,  there  is, 
so  far,  no  emphasis.  A  perfect  command  should  be  ac- 
quired over  all  the  varieties  of  emphatic  expression,  so 
that  without  effort,  as  it  were,  spontaneously,  the  deliv- 
ary  shall  proceed,  colored,  as  the  ever-varying  shades  of 
thought  and  feeling  shall  reqnire,  with  correspondingly 
various  modifications  of  the  utterance. 

"  The  other  fault,  of  exaggerating  evei-y  instance  of 
emphatic  expression,  is  not  less  common.  Many  seem 
to  have  no  notion  of  degrees  or  shades  of  coloring  in 
emphasis.  To  emphasize  is  ever  to  raise  to  a  certain 
fixed  degree  of  prominence  in  the  delivery.  They  have 
no  conception  how  a  skillful  painter  brings  out  a  feature 
by  a  single  delicate  stroke  of  his  pencil,  and  when  they 
wish  to  emphasize  at  all,  they  daub  and  caricature. 
Where  a  skillful  speaker  or  reader  will  start  the  tear  of 
his  hearer  by  a  single  semitone  or  a  tremor  upon  a  sii> 
gle  word,  they  rave  and  rant  with  violent  labor  of  voice, 
and  only  stun  or  disgust  at  last  instead  of  exciting  an 


CLIMAX.  167 

emotion.  Trying  to  shade  a  parenthetical  expression, 
Buch  readers  can  only  reduce  the  volume  of  voice  to 
almost  whispering  notes,  and  lower  the  pitch  a  third  or 
a  fifth,  to  spring  back  again  with  a  violent  skip  and  an 
explosion  upon  the  leading  part  of  the  expression,  pain- 
fully jerking  and  rending  the  nerves  of  hearing,  while 
yet  they  utterly  fail  of  their  object  to  exhibit  the  just 
relations  of  the  thought." 

SECTION  LIII. 
CLIMAX. 

Clinfiax  is  an  utterance  gradually  increasing  in  inten- 
sity, and  changing  in  pitch  and  movement.  No  definita 
rules  can  be  given  as  to  the  degree  of  intensity  or  the 
changes  in  pitch  and  movement.  Only  the  sentiment 
can  determine  this.  Generally  the  changes  will  be  from 
a  middle  or  low  to  a  high  pitch,  and  from  a  moderate  or 
slow  to  a  rapid  movement ;  yet  this  rule  will  often  be 
reversed.  Sometimes  the  Climax  will  be  heitxhtened  bv 
a  change  in  the  quality  of  voice,  as  in  the  eleventh  ex- 
ample, in  which  each  repetition  of  the  word  never  de- 
mands a  more  aspirate  quality.  The  Climax  is  employed 
in  the  delivery  of  those  sentences  only  which  rise  as  it 
were  step  by  step  in  importance,  dignity  and  force. 

Examples. 

Climax. 

1.  It  is  a  religion  by  which  to  live,  a  religion  by  which  to  die ;  a 
religion  that  cheers  in  darkness,  relieves  in  perplexity,  and  guides  tlie 
inquirer  to  that  blessed  land  "where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 
and  the  weary  are  at  rest." 

2  For  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  dea'h,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  uor 
principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor 
heigl^.t,  noi  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us 
from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus. 


168  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

3.  Add  to  your  faith,  virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge ;   and  to 
knowledge,  temperance ;    and  to  temperance,  patience ;    and  to  pa-         ': 
tience,  godliness ;  and  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness ;  and  to  broth- 
erly kindness,  charity. 

4.  Was  that  country  a  desei-t  ?  No ;  it  was  rich  and  fertile,  culti- 
\ated  and  populous.  Friendship  was  its  inhabitant;  love  was  its 
inhabitant;  liberty  was  its  inhabitant;  all  bounded  by  the  stream  of 
the  Rubicon. 

5.  Of  all  God  made  upright,  and  in  their  nostrils  breathed  a  living 
soul,  most  prone,  most  earthy,  most  debased ;  of  all  that  sell  eternity 
for  tim.e,  none  bargain  on  so  easy  terms  with  death. 

6.  What  a  piece  of  work  is  man  I  How  noble  in  reason  1  How  in- 
finite in  faculties  !  In  form  and  moving,  how  express  and  admirable  1 
In  action,  how  like  an  angel !     In  apprehension,  how  like  a  god  1 

7.  I  tell  you,  though  you,  though  .the  whole  world,  though  an 
angel  from  heaven,  were  to  declare  the  truth  of  it,  I  would  not  be- 
lieve it. 

8.  There  is  Boston,  and  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill, 
and  there  they  wiU  remain  forever. 

9.  But  every-where,  spread  all  over  in  characters  of  living  hght, 
blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the 
land,  and  in  every  wind  under  the  whole  heaven,  that  other  semi 
raent,  dear  to  every  American  heart — Liberty  and  Union,  now  and 
forever,  one  and  inseparable. 

10.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  alone;  it  is  to  the  vigilant, 
the  active,  the  brave. 

11.  If  I  were  an  American,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  while  a  foreign 
troop  remained  in  my  country  I  never  would  lay  down  my  arms ;  no, 
never,  never,  never. 

12.  I  scorn  to  count  what  feehngs,  withered  hopes,  strong  provoca- 
tions, bitter,  burning  wrongs,  I  have  within  my  heart's  hot  cells  nhut 
up  to  leave  you  in  your  lazy  dignities. 

13.  Days,  months,  yenrs,  and  ages  shall  circle  away. 
And  still  thu  vast  waters  above  thee  shall  roll ; 
Earth  loses  thy  pattern  forever  and  ay ; 
0  sailor  boy,  sailor  boy.  peace  to  thy  soul  I 


CLIMAX.  169 

J  4.  By  your  gracious  patience 

I  will  a  round,  unvarnished  tale  deliver 
Of  my  whole  course  of  love  ;  what  drugs,  what  channs, 
What  conjuration,  and  what  naighty  magic — 
For  such  proceedings  I  am  charged  withal — 
I  won  his  daughter  with. 

16.  The  cloud-capt  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  that  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve. 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision, 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind. 

16;  "When  this  fiery  mass 

Of  living  valor,  rolhng  on  the  foe 
And  burning  with  high  hope,  shall  molder  cold  and  low. 

n.  Let  but  the  commons  hear  this  testament, 
(Which,  pardon  me,  I  do  not  mean  to  read,) 
And  they  would  go  and  kiss  dead  Caesar's  wounds, 
And  dip  their  napkins  in  his  sacred  blood — 
Tea,  beg  a  hair  of  him,  for  memory. 
And,  dying,  mention  it  within  their  wills, 
Bequeathing  it  as  a  rich  legacy 
Unto  their  issue. 

18.  Not  such  as  swept  along 

By  the  full  tide  of  power,  the  conqueror  led 
To  crimson  glory  and  undying  fame. 

19.  Tell  me  I  hate  the  bowl? 

Hate  is  a  feeble  word: 
I  loathe,  abhor ;  my  very  soul 

With  strong  disgust  is  stirred 
Whene'er  I  see,  or  hear,  or  tell 

Of  the  dark  beverage  of  helL 

20.  Clarence  has  comel  false,  fleeting,  perjured  Clarence- 

21.  And  Douglas,  more,  I  tell  thee  here ; 

Here,  in  thy  pitch  of  pride ; 
Here,  in  thy  hold,  thy  vassals  near : 
I  tell  thee  thou'rt  defied. 


170  SCIENCE  OP    ELOCUTION. 

SECTION  LIV. 
GROUPING. 

Grouping  is  that  nice  modulation  and  adaptation  of 
the  voice  to  the  sentiment  expressed  which  renders  the 
utterance  not  only  more  impressive,  but  more  pleasing 
to  the  ear.  It  is  the  sine  qua  non  of  excellence  in  read- 
ing and  speaking. 

Without  it  success  cannot  be  attained. 

The  public  speaker  may  have  perfect  command  of  all 
other  elements  of  utterance,  yet  if  he  fails  in  grouping 
he  fails  in  that  element  which  more  than  all  others  com- 
mands the  attention  of  an  audience. 

Grouping  is  a  term  borrowed  from  painting,  and  is  to 
reading  and  speaking  what  the  adjustment  of  the  figures 
is  to  the  picture — that  which  gives  beauty  and  expression 
to  the  whole. 

As  he  is  not  regarded  as  the  most  skillful  artist  who 
can  paint  most  perfectly  each  separate  figure,  but  he 
who  by  his  superior  judgment  and  taste  groups  his  fig- 
ures into  one  harmonious  picture ;  so  he  is  not  the  best 
reader  or  speaker  who  possesses  the  most  cultivated 
voice,  or  can  most  perfectly  illustrate  each  separate  ele- 
ment, but  he  who  by  his  cultivated  taste  and  judgment 
most  pleasantly  modulates  his  voice,  and  best  adapts  it 
to  the  sentiment  he  expresses. 

To  change  the  figure,  command  of  Form,  Force, 
Quality,  Stress,  Pitch,  Movement,  etc.,  are  the  flowers 
out  of  which  the  speaker  is  to  weave  the  bouquet  of 
delivery.  It  is  upon  this  part,  which  may  be  termed 
the  aesthetics  of  Elocution,  that  so  many  public  speakers 
fail. 

It  is  not  sufiicient  that  speaking  be  correct ;  it  must  be 
pleasing  and  impressive. 


GROUPING.  171 

It  was  to  perfect  grouping  that  Booth  studied  thirty 
fears  the  deliveiy  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  then  said 
that  he  did  not  know  how  to  repeat  it ;  it  was  to  perfect 
groupijig  that  the  elder  Kean  repeated  the  three  words, 
"Was  that  thunder!"  for  an  hour  every  night  during 
a  voyage  of  a  month  across  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and  it 
was  the  reward  of  his  toil  and  the  evidence  of  his  suc- 
cess when  the  audience  rose  to  their  feet  at  his  thrilling 
utterance  of  the  words  on  the  occasion  of  his  first  benefit 
in  Drury  Lane  Theater,  after  his  return  to  his  native 
land  ;  it  was  to  perfect  grouping  that  Cicero  traveled  in 
foreign  countries,  and  Demosthenes  declaimed  on  the 
sea-shore ;  and  it  was  the  perfection  of  grouping  that  so 
distinguished  the  delivery  of  Clay,  Everett,  Phillips  and 
Gough. 

When  the  student  shall  have  mastered  all  the  previous 
elements  he  will  then  have  begun,  and  only  begun,  the 
study  of  Elocution. 

Upon  no  other  part  of  the  subject  is  it  so  difficult  to 
give  definite  instruction. 

Grou]3ing  consists,  not  in  control  of  any  one,  but  of  all 
elements  of  utterance.  It  is  not  any  particular  blend- 
ing, but  an  endless  variety  of  blendings.  It  cannot  be 
said  of  James  E.  Murdoch's  reading  (and  he  is  perhaps 
the  best  reader  in  America)  that  as  he  groups  so  others 
should  group,  nor  will  he  necessarily  group  the  same 
selection  twice  in  the  same  way. 

Grouping  is,  in  short,  the  exhibition  of  the  same  power 
that  is  displayed  by  the  musical  composer  when  he  ar- 
ranges the  notes  into  a  pleasing  tune. 

To  illustrate :  if  the  following  verse  be  read  with  Ef- 
fusive Form,  Pure  Tone,  Subdued  Force,  Median  Stress, 
Low  Pitch,  and  Slow  Movement,  it  will  be  read  CCP" 
rcctly,  though  it  may  not  be  read  aesthetically. 


172  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Examples  ;  I. 

[Fi'om  "Missing."] 

Not  among  tlie  suffering  wounded, 

Not  among  the  peaceful  dead, 
Not  among  the  prisoners — Missing : 

That  was  all  the  message  said. 

J^et  tlie  reading  be  grouped  in  the  following  manner, 
and  it  will  not  only  be  more  impressive,  but  more  pleas- 
ing to  the  ear : 

Give  the  first  line  with  Moderately  Subdued  Force, 
Median  Stress,  Low  Pitch,  and  Slow  Movement ;  the 
next  line  with  less  force  and  slower  movement ;  the 
third  line,  to  the  word  "  missing,"  with  more  force, 
higher  pitch,  and  faster  movement  than  the  first  line 
was  given ;  the  word  "  missing "  with  more  subdued 
force,  lower  pitch,  and  slower  movement  than  the  second 
line  was  given ;  the  fourth  line  with  more  force,  higher 
pitch,  and  faster  movement  than  the  second  line,  though 
not  so  great  as  the  first  line. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  all  these  changes  must 
be  under  the  general  heads  of  Pure  Tone,  Efi*usive 
Form,  Median  Stress,  Low  Pitch,  and  Slow  Movement, 
though  in  different  degrees. 

Now  it  is  not  claimed  that  this  grouping  is  the  only 
one,  nor  the  best  one;  it  is  only  presented  as  an  illus- 
tration. 

n. 

[From  "No  Excellence  Without  Labor," — Wirt] 

The  education,  moral  and  intellectual,  of  every  individual  must  be 
chiefly  his  own  work.  Rely  upon  it  that  the  ancients  were  right — 
both  in  morals  and  intellect  we  give  their  final  shape  to  our  own 
characters,  and  thus  become  emphatically  the  architects  of  our  own 
fortunes. 


GROUPING.  173 

The  above  extract  may  be  read  correctly  by  giving  it 
Expulsive  Form,  Pure  Tone,  Moderate  Force,  Radical 
Stress,  Middle  Pitch,  Moderate  Movement ;  still  it  might 
be  very  monotonous. 

It  may  be  grouped  in  the  following  manner : 
Give  the  words,  "  The  education,"  with  the  above  at- 
tributes, in  a  moderate  degree  ;  upon  the  words  "  moral 
and  intellectual "  slightly  reduce  the  force,  lower  the 
pitch,  slow  the  movement  and  moderate  the  stress ; 
give  "  of  every  individual "  with  about  the  same  degree 
of  force,  stress,  pitch  and  movement  as  "  the  education," 
though  gradually  increased  ;  "  must  be  "  will  require 
additional  force  and  stress  ;  "  chiefly  "  should  be  dropped 
to  about  the  same  as  "  moral  and  intellectual "  were 
given ;  "  his  own  work "  begin  with  nearly  the  same 
force,  stress,  pitch  and  movement  as  upon  "  must  be," 
and  close  gently  with  the  cadence.  Give  "  Rely  upon  it 
that  the  ancients  were  right "  with  the  attributes  slightly 
increased  from  the  close  of  the  last  sentence  ;  "  both  in 
morals  and  intellect "  will  require  less  force,  slower 
movement  and  lower  pitch  than  "  rely  upon  it  the  an- 
cients were  right ;"  "  we  give  their  final  shape  to  our 
characters,  and  thus  become  "  should  begin  with  more 
force,  higher  pitch,  and  more  decided  stress  than  "  rely 
upon  it,"  etc.,  was  begun,  and  these  attributes  should  be 
gradually  increased  to  the  close  of  the  word  "  become." 
"  Emphatically,"  being  an  emphatic  word,  will  require  a 
decided  increase  of  Force,  Stress  and  elevation  of  Pitch, 
which  should  glide  down  on  that  word,  through  the 
concrete  movement,  at  least  a  fifth.  The  Force,  Stress 
and  Movement  should  be  a  slight  increase  on  ivhat  it 
was  on  "  become,"  and  then  gradually  diminish  to  the 
close,  giving  the  complete  cadence  on  the  words  ''  our 
own  fortunes." 


174  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Illustrations  of  Grouping  might  be  mnltipliecl  indefi- 
nitely, but  this  will  be  sufficient,  it  is  hoped,  to  clearly- 
present  the  idea.  It  will  be  here  that  the  skill  of  the 
student  of  Elocution  will  be  most  severely  tested.  Only 
by  a  frequent  analysis,  similar  to  the  above,  of  the  de- 
livery of  passages  can  the  highest  success  be  attained. 
The  results  will  richly  compensate  years  of  patient  study 
and  practice,  and  only  thus  can  great  results  be  ob- 
tained. 


ACTION.  1 75 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ACTION. 

Action  embraces  all  that  part  of  delivery  which  ad- 
dresses itself  to  the  Eye,  as  distinguished  from  the 
Voice,  or  that  part  which  appeals  to  the  Ear.  Consid- 
ered as  a  just  and  elegant  adaptation  of  every  part  of 
the  body  to  the  nature  and  import  of  the  sentiment  ex- 
pressed, action  has  always  been  regarded  as  one  of  the 
most  essential  parts  of  oratory. 

Its  power,  as  Cicero  observes,  is  much  greater  than 
that  of  words. 

Demosthenes  regarded  action  as  the  first,  second,  and 
third  qualification  of  an  orator.  It  is  the  language  of 
nature  in  the  strictest  sense,  and  makes  its  way  to  the 
heart  without  the  utterance  of  a  single  sound. 

"  Such,  however,  is  the  force  of  custom,  that  though 
we  all  confess  the  power  and  necessity  ol  this  branch  of 
public  speaking,  we  find  few  that  are  hardy  enough  to 
put  it  in  practice.  Some  of  our  most  accomplished 
speakers  in  the  pulpit,  senate,  and  bar  are  very  faulty  in 
their  use  of  action,  and  it  is  remarkable  that  those  who 
are  excellent  in  every  other  part  of  oratory  are  very  de- 
ficient in  this.  The  truth  is,  though  the  reason  of  action 
in  speaking  is  in  the  nature  of  things,  the  difficulty  of 
acquiring  the  other  requisites  of  an  orator,  and  the  still 
greater  difficulty  of  attaining  excellence  in  action,  (which 
after  all  our  pains  is  less  esteemed  than  excellences  of 
another  kind  j)  these  seem  to  be  the  reasons  why  action 


176  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

is  SO  little  cultivated  among  us ;  to  this  we  may  add 
that,  so  different  are  national  tastes  in  this  particular, 
that  hardly  any  two  people  agree  in  the  just  proportion 
of  this  so  celebrated  and  essential  quality  of  an  orator. 
Perhaps  the  finished  action  of  a  Cicero  or  a  Demos- 
thenes would  scarcely  be  borne  in  our  times,  though 
accompanied  with  every  other  excellence. 

"  But  though  the  oratory  of  the  moderns  does  not 
require  all  those  various  evolutions  of  gesture  which 
were  almost  indispensable  in  the  ancients,  yet  a  certain 
degree  of  it  must  necessarily  enter  into  the  composition 
of  every  good  speaker  and  reader.  To  be  perfectly  mo- 
tionless while  we  are  pronouncing  words  which  require 
force  and  energy,  is  not  only  depriving  them  of  their 
necessary  support,  but  rendering  them  unnatural  and 
ridiculous.  A  very  vehement  address  pronounced  with- 
out any  motion  but?  that  of  the  lips  and  tongue  would 
be  a  burlesque  upon  the  meaning,  and  produce  laughter ; 
nay,  so  unnatural  is  this  total  absence  of  gesticulation, 
that  it  is  not  very  easy  to  speak  in  this  manner. 

''  As  some  action,  therefore,  must  necessarily  accom- 
pany our  words,  it  is  of  the  utmost  consequence  that  this 
be  such  as  is  suitable  and  natural.  ISfo  matter  how  lit- 
tle, if  it  be  but  akin  to  the  words  and  passions,  for  if 
foreign  to  them,  it  counteracts  and  destroys  the  very 
intention  of  delivery.  The  voice  and  gesture  must  har- 
monize and  be  in  keeping  with  each  other,  and  if  there 
is  not  a  mutual  understanding  and  relationship  existing 
between  them,  discord  must  inevitably  be  the  conse- 
quence. An  awkward  action,  and  such  as  is  unsuitable 
to  the  words  and  passion,  not  only  mars  the  effect  of 
discourse,  but  is  as  painful  to  the  eye  as  discord  to 
the  ear." 

The  true  end  of  action  is  not  to  exhibit  the  body  and 


ACTION.  177 

limbs,  but  to  give  power  to  the  utterance  ;  not  to  ex- 
hibit grace,  but  to  convey  exphiiiation. 

As  there  is  a  tone  of  voice  appropriate  for  the  utter- 
ance of  every  sentiment  and  emotion,  so  also  there  is  an 
appropriate  attitude  of  body  and  expression  of  counte- 
nance. "  Thus,"  as  Austin  remarks,  "  anger  threatens, 
affright  starts,  joy  hiughs  and  dances,  but  nature  does 
not  by  any  means  suggest  (except  it  may  be  to  some 
chosen  few)  the  most  dignified  or  graceful  expressions 
of  the  various  passions." 

These  should  be  carefully  studied  and  practiced,  that 
we  may  accustom  ourselves  to  the  habit  of  assuming 
them  easily  in  public.  What  Pope  says  of  writing  is 
equally  true  of  action  in  oratory  : 

"  True  ease  in  action  comes  from  art,  not  chance : 
So  those  move  easiest  who  have  learned  to  dance." 

Only  by  continued  and  frequent  practice  can  the  pupil 
hope  to  acquire  ease,  grace  and  power  of  gesture. 

To  present  an  analysis  of  action,  and  thus  facilitate 
the  work  of  the  student  of  Elocution,  is  the  object  of 
this  part  of  the  work. 

SECTION  I. 
POSITIONS    OF    FEET. 

"  The  propriety  of  commencing  this  part  oi  our  sub- 
ject with  a  consideration  of  the  Feet  and  Lower  Limbs 
will  become  obvious  to  the  learner  as  we  pass  along. 
To  the  orator  nothing  is  unimportant  which  contributes 
to  the  general  impression  be  makes  upon  his  audience, 
and  this  depends  very  materially  on  the  dignity  and 
grace  of  his  movements.  And  what  particularly  con- 
cerns us  to  remark  at  this  point,  is  that  dignity  and 

grace  in  the  standing  figure  are  known  to  depend  on 

12 


178  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

the  positions  of  tlie  lower  limbs,  which  should  he  siieh  .13 
to  give  to  the  body  both  firmness  of  support  and  facility 
of  movement.  Mere  firmness  or  stability  can  be  secured 
when  combined  with  every  degree  of  awkwardness,  and 
rude  strength  most  frequently  perhaps  supports  the 
weight  of  the  body  equally  on  both  feet.  Firmness  and 
grace,  however,  are  combined  when  the  weight  of  the 
body  is  principally  supported  on  one  leg,  and  the  other 
so  placed  as  to  preserve  the  balance  of  the  body  and 
keep  it  from  tottering,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  left 
free  to  move  at  will.  Austin  has  remarked  that  this  is 
the  position  adopted  in  the  Apollo,  the  Antinous,  and  in 
other  beautiful  and  w^ell-executed  statues.  In  this  posi- 
tion the  foot  which  supports  the  body  is  to  be  firmly 
planted,  and  the  body  so  erect  that  a  perpendicular  line 
let  fall  from  the  center  of  the  neck  should  pass  through 
the  heel  of  that  foot.  Either  foot  may  thus  support  the 
body,  and  may  be  more  or  less  advanced  than  the  free 
foot,  thus  giving  four  positions,which  are  the  principal  ones 
suited  to  oratory.  The  conditions  of  all  these  are,  first, 
that  the  feet  are  to  be  separated  from  each  other  only 
three  or  four  inches ;  second,  that  the  toes  of  the  foot 
which  supports  the  body,  as  well  as  of  the  other,  should 
be  turned  moderately  outward ;  and  third,  that  the  feet 
should  be  so  placed  that  lines  passing  lengthwise  through 
the  two  feet  shall  cross  each  other 
under  and  a  little  forward  of  the 
J^k  foot  least  advanced. 


First  Position. 

In  this  position  the   left  foot  is 
firml)^    planted,    and    supports    the 
weight  of  the  body.     The  right  is 
TOtsT  rosTTTON  placjcd  a  little  in  advance,  forming, 


POSITION   OF   FEET. 


179 


mth  the  left,  nearly  an  angle  of  ninety  degrees,  and 
resting  liglitly  on  the  ball  of  the  great  toe.  The  right 
knee  is  slightly  bent. 


Seco:n^d  Position. 
In  the  second  position  the  weight 
of  the  body  is  supported  by  the  right 
foot,  which  is  planted  firmly.  The  left 
is  placed  a  little  in  advance,  resting 
lightly  on  the  ball  of  the  great  toe, 
and,  with  tlie  right,  forms  nearly  an 
angle  of  ninty  degrees.  The  left 
knee  is  slightly  bent. 


SECOND  POSITION. 


THIRD   POSITION. 


Third  Position. 

In  this  position  the  weight  of  the 
body  is  upon  the  right  foot,  which  is 
placed  in  advance  of  the  left.  The  toe 
of  the  left  foot  balances  the  body, 
which  is  thrown  a  little  forward.  The 
heel  of  the  left  foot  is  elevated  about 
an  inch,  and  swings  in  toward  the  right 
foot. 


FounTH  Position. 
In  the  fourth  position  the  weight 
rests  upon  the  left  foot,  which  is 
placed  a  little  in  advance.  The  toe 
of  the  right  foot  balances  the  body, 
the  heel  inclining  in  to  the  left  foot. 
The  body  is  inclined  forward. 


rOUETH  POSITION. 


180  SCIEIS^CE   OF   ELOCUTION". 

SECTION  II. 
CHANGES    IN    POSITION. 

The  changes  of  position  should  be  made  as  quietly  a? 
[)os8ible,  and  usually  by  placing  either  backward  or  for- 
ward the  foot  not  supporting  the  weight  of  the  body. 

In  the  first  part  of  a  discourse  but  few  changes  of 
position  should  be  made. 

SECTION  III. 
POSITION    OF    BODY. 

Oratory  requires  only  the  erect  position  of  self-sus- 
tained dignity,  and  allows  no  marked  deviation  from 
this  position. 

To  be  more  particular :  the  body  of  the  speaker 
should  be  well  balanced  and  sustained  erect  on  the  sup- 
porting limb ;  the  head  likewise  should  be  sustained 
with  manliness  and  grace.  He  should  fi*ont  his  audience, 
presenting  himself,  as  Quintilian  expresses  it,  aequo  pec- 
tore^  and  with  his  face  as  well  as  his  breast  directed  to 
those  whom  he  addresses.  This  perfectly  erect  position 
of  the  body  and  the  head  should,  however,  yield  to  every 
gesture  of  the  arm. 

SECTION  IV. 
POSITION    OF   THE   ARMS    IN    REPOSE. 

When  the  arms  are  not  employed  in  gesture  they 
should  hang  naturally  by  the  side. 

This  position,  however,  too  long  sustained  becomes 
tiresome  and  monotonous,  and  requires  change.  Where 
the  circumstances  are  favorable  the  left  hand  may  rest 
gently  on  a  table  or  stand,  the  thumb  may  be  placed  in 
a  watch-guard,  or  the  fingers  placed  between  the  buttons 


POSITION   OF   ARMS.  181 

of  the  vest.  At  times  the  left  arm  may  bo  thrown  be- 
hind the  body.  In  various  ways,  the  eye  of  the  audience, 
as  well  as  the  monotony  of  the  speaker,  may  be  relieved 
by  a  nice  adjustment  of  the  body  and  arms. 

SECTION  V. 
POSITIONS    OF    THE    ARMS    IN    GESTURE. 

First. — In  gesticulation,  the  arm  should  be  free  and 
unconstrained,  the  action  proceeding  from  the  shoulder 
rather  than  the  elbow.  The  elbow  should  be  slightly 
curved  and  flexible. 

Second. — The  arm  should  be  so  moved  that  the  hand 
will  always  describe  curved  lines  instead  of  those  which 
are  straight  and  angular.  The  curve  is  the  line  of 
beauty,  and  grace  in  the  action  of  the  arm  depends 
very  materially  on  the  observance  of  this  principle. 

Third. — The  arm  should  not  remain  stationary  even 
for  a  moment  while  out  in  gesticulation.  It  should 
either  be  kept  moving  preparatory  to  another  gesture, 
or  return  to  the  side. 

Fourth. — Gestures  ordinarily  should  not  be  made 
at  a  greater  angle  than  forty-five  degrees  from  a  hori 
zontal  line  passing  directly  forward  from  the  center  of 
the  breast. 

Fifth. — In  general  there  should  be  a  point  at  which 
the  gesture  will  terminate.  This,  in  emphatic  gesticu- 
lation, will  be  upon  the  word  that  demands  the  gesture, 
and  just  at  the  instant  of  the  utterance  of  the  accented 
part  of  the  word.  A  mere  swing  of  the  arm,  even 
though  it  describes  a  curved  line  ever  so  graceful,  does 
not  accomplish  the  important  part  of  gesture. 

Sixth. — The  ease  and  grace  of  the  motion  of  the  arm 
will  depend  on  the  free  use  of  the  joints  of  the  shoulder, 


182  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

elbow  and  wrist.     Without  the  free  use  of  the  wrist- 
joint  particularly  there  can  be  no  grace. 

Seventh. — Preference  in  gesticulation  should  be  given 
to  the  right  arm.  As  a  general  rule,  when  the  right 
hand  is  employed  in  gesture,  the  weight  of  the  body 
should  be  on  the  left  foot,  the  right  advanced. 

SECTION  VI. 
T  H  E      H  A  N  D. 

The  expressiveness  of  gesture  depends  largely  on  the 
hand.  Next  to  the  tones  of  the  voice  and  the  expres- 
sions of  countenance,  the  hand  has  the  greatest  variety 
and  power  of  expression.  Sheridan  says :  "  Every  one 
knows  that  with  the  hands  we  can  demand  or  promise, 
call,  dismiss,  threaten,  supplicate,  ask,  deny,  show  joy, 
sorrow,  detestation,  fear,  confession,  penitence,  admiration, 
respect,  and  many  other  things  now  in  common  use." 

SECTION  VII. 
POSITIONS    OF    THE    HAND. 

The  hand  is  prone  when  the  palm  is  turned  down- 
ward. 

It  is  supine  when  the  palm  is  turned  upward. 

It  is  vertical  when  the  plane  of  the  palm  is  perpendicu- 
lar to  the  horizon,  the  fingers  pointing  upward. 

The  natural  state  of  the  lingers,  when  the  arm  is  hang- 
ing freely  by  the  side,  or  employed  in  unimpassioned 
gesture,  is  that  in  which  the  hand  is  fully  open,  with  the 
forefinger  nearly  straight,  and  slightly  separated  from 
the  middle  finger ;  the  middle  finger  is  more  bunt,  and 
rests  partly  on  the  third  finger,  which  it  gently  touches ; 
the  little  finger  is  still  more  bent,  and  slightly  separated 
from  the  third  finger  ;  the  thumb  is  withdrawn  from  the 


ACCOMPANIMENTS   OF   GESTURE.  183 

prum,  and  so  placed  tliat  a  line  from  the  top  of  it  will  be 
a  little  above  the  line  of  the  forefinger. 

This  arrangement  of  the  fingers  is  observed  in  the 
Venus  de  Medicis,  and  other  eminent  specimens  of  both 
statuary  and  painting. 

The  position  of  the  hand,  as  regards  the  palm,  most 
suitable  to  be  adopted  by  the  public  speaker  in  unim- 
passioned  gesticulation,  is  that  which  presents  an  inclina- 
tion from  the  supine  of  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees, 
and  accompanied  with  a  slight  bend  of  the  wrist  down- 
ward, in  the  direction  of  the  little  finger. 

In  emphatic  or  impassioned  gesture  the  hand  may  be 
closed  as  it  is  brought  down. 

SECTION  VIII. 
ACCOMPANIMENTS    OF    GESTURE.* 

1.  J^ody  and  Countenance. — "  The  subordinate  gesture 
is  one  of  the  accompaniments  of  the  principal ;  but  there 
are  other  accompaniments  to  be  attended  to.  The  move- 
ments of  the  lower  limbs,  of  the  body,  and  of  the  head, 
must  all, join  in  harmony  with  the  principal  gesture  of  the 
hand,  otherwise  the  movement  will  be  but  a  mere  imitation 
of  nature.  And  even  though  the  body  and  limbs  should 
move  in  perfect  concert,  while  the  countenance  should 
remain  unmoved  and  unexcited,  the  entire  action  would 
be  but  that  of  a  well-contrived  automaton.  With  all  of 
these  at  perfect  command,  and  employed  in  harmony  w^ith 
the  diversified  melodies  of  the  voice,  nothing  can  be  want- 
ing for  the  enforcement  of  either  thought  or  feeling." 

2.  Preparation  and  Termination  of  Gesture. — "Every 
act  of  gesture  consists  of  two  parts — the  preparatory  and 

*  The  following  pages  on  gesture  so  nearly  embud}^  our  own  view 
tiiat  they  have  been  copied  almost  entire  from  Caldwell's  Practical 
Elocution. 


184  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION". 

the  lorminating  movement.  The  last  is  that  for  which 
the  gesture  is  made,  and  the  former  is  but  the  prelim- 
inary movement,  which  of  necessity  precedes  it.  The 
collected  state  of  the  hand,  for  example,  belongs  exclu- 
sively to  the  preparatory  part  of  gesture.  Again,  the 
hand  cannot  be  brought  downward  in  emphatic  expres- 
sion till  it  has  been  elevated.  The  elevation  of  the  arm 
and  hand,  then,  is  the  preparatory  part  of  such  a  gesture. 
Though,  in  one  sense,  this  is  entirely  a  subordinate  part 
of  gesture,  yet  on  it  depend  essentially  the  force  as  well 
as  the  grace  of  its  termination.  It  must  be  executed 
neither  too  early,  so  as  to  leave  the  arm  too  long  sus- 
pended ;  nor  too  late,  so  as  to  make  the  gesture  short 
and  hurried.  It  should  appear  easy  and  natural,  be 
made  in  curved  rather  than  in  straight  lines,  and  should 
seem  to  be  prompted,  as  indeed  it  ought  to  be,  by  the 
rising  thought." 

3.  Transition  of  Gesture. — "  When  the  hand  has  once 
been  brought  into  action  in  gesture,  instead  of  dropping 
to  the  side,  and  then  behig  brought  up  again  for  a  simi- 
lar purpose,  it  should  generally  remain  in  its  position  till 
relieved  by  the  other  hand,  or  till  it  passes  into  a  state 
of  preparation  for  a  succeeding  gesture.  The  term  trmi" 
sition  may  be  applied  to  the  passing  thus  from  any  one 
gesture  to  another,  whether  from  one  principal  gesture 
to  another  of  the  same  hand,  or  from  the  gesture  of  one 
hand  to  that  of  the  other.  ISTo  rules  for  such  transitions 
can  be  given.  The  term  is,  however,  used  in  a  sense 
more  analogous  with  the  same  term  as  applied  to  the 
voice  when  it  is  made  to  refer  to  such  changes  as  arise 
from  transitions  in  the  sentiment,  whether  they  are  sud« 
den  and  abrupt,  or  more  gradual,  like  those  which  take 
place  in  the  regular  progress  of  a  discourse.  At  this 
point  it  need  only  be  remarked,  that  these  last  named 


QUALITIES  OF   GESTURE.  185 

transitions  of  gesture  should  never  be  made,  except  when 
dictated  by  such  transitions  of  thought  and  sentiment  as 
call  for  corresponding  changes  in  the  vocal  expression.'* 


SECTION  IX. 
QUALITIES    OF   GESTURE. 

The  qualities  on  which  the  excellence  of  gesture  de- 
pends are  Simplicity,  Propriety,  Precision,  Energy,  Bold- 
ness, Variety,  Grace,  Magnificence. 

These  will  be  briefly  noticed. 

1.  Simplicity  of  Gesture  is  perfectly  free  and  unaf- 
fected, and  appears  to  be  the  natural  result  of  the  situa- 
tion and  sentiments  of  the  speaker,  presenting  evidence 
neither  of  studied  variety  nor  of  reserve.  Its  opposite  is 
affectation. 

2.  Propriety  of  Gesture  always  indicates  some  obvious 
connection  between  the  sentiment  and  the  action.  It 
implies  the  use  of  such  gestures  as  are  best  suited  to 
illustrate  or  to  express  the  sentiment,  and  tlius  often 
calls  into  use  the  significant  gestures.  The  opposite  of 
this  is  solecism  in  gesture,  implying  the  recurrence  of 
false,  contradictory,  or  unsuitable  gestures. 

3.  Precision  of  Gesture  arises  from  the  just  prepara- 
tion, the  due  force,  and  the  correct  timing  of  the  action. 
The  stroke  of  the  gesture  must  not  only  fall  on  the  em- 
phatic syllable,  but  its  force  must  exactly  suit  the  char- 
acter of  the  sentiment  and  the  speaker.  This  gives  the 
same  effect  to  action  that  neatness  of  articulation  does 
to  speed  1.  The  opposites  are  gestures  which  distract 
the  attention,  while  they  neither  enforce  nor  illustrate 
the  sentiment.  Such  are  most  of  those  which  consist  in 
H  mere  swing  of  the  arm,  while  the  stroke  of  the  gesture 
is  wanting. 


186  SCIEIS^CE   OF  ELOCUTIOIS^ 

4.  Miergy  of  Gesture  consists  in  the  firmness  and 
decision  of  the  whole  action,  and  these  depend  very 
materially  on  the  precision  with  which  the  stroke  of  the 
gesture  is  made  to  support  the  voice  in  marking  the 
emphasis.  Let  bad  habits  be  overcome,  and  a  ready 
command  of  all  the  elements  of  gesture  be  acquired, 
then  will  energy  of  gesture  be  the  necessary  result  of  a  - 
clear  head  and  a  w^arm  heart.  Its  oppo sites  are  feeble- 
9iess  and  indecision. 

5.  Boldness  of  Gesture  is  exhibited  in  striking  but 
unexpected  positions,  movements  and  transitions.  It  is 
the  offspring  of  a  daring  self-confidence,  which  ventures 
to  hazard  any  action  which  it  is  conceived  may  either 
illustrate  or  enforce.  The  courage  thus  to  execute  is 
valuable  only  when  under  the  guidance  of  good  taste. 
The  opposite  of  this  is  tcuneness^  which  hazards  nothing, 
is  distrustful  of  its  powers,  and  produces  no  great  effect. 

6.  Variety  of  Gesture  consists  in  the  adapting  of  gest- 
ure to  the  condition  and  ever-varying  sentiment  of  the 
speaker,  so  as  to  avoid  a  too  frequent  recurrence  of  the 
same  gesture,  or  the  same  set  of  gestures.  It  is  opposed 
both  to  same7iess  of  gesture  and  to  ^nechanical  variety, 

7.  Grace  of  Gesture  is  the  result  of  all  otijer  perfec- 
tions, arising  from  a  dignified  self-possession  of  mind^ 
and  the  power  of  personal  exertion  practiced  into  facility 
after  the  best  models  and  according  to  the  truest  taste. 
This  usually,  therefore,  depends  more  on  art  than  on 
nature,  and  has  more  to  do  with  pleasing  the  fancy  than 
with  producing  conviction.  It  suggests  not  a  single 
movement,  but  simply  preserves  the  gestures  employed 
for  other  purposes  from  all  awkwardness.  The  opposites 
of  this  are  aioJcioardness^  vulgarity  or  rusticity. 

Magnificence  'of  Gesture  is  secured  by  perfect  freedom 
of  movement.     The  arm  moves  from  the  shoulder,  and 


adaitatio:n-  of  gesture.  187 

the  hand  is  cairie-  through  an  ample  space.  The  head 
moves  freely,  the  jody  is  erect,  and  the  step  is  free  and 
firm.  Opposed  ^j  these  are  contracted  gestures^  con- 
strained motions^  short  ste27S  and  doubtful  and  tunid 
movements. 

SECTION  X, 

ADAPTATION    OF    GESTURE. 

Gesticulation  should  correspond  to  the  sentiments  ex- 
pressed by  the  words.  Unimpassioned  didactic  thought 
will  require  but  little  gesture. 

Descriptive  thought  will  require  more  decided  and 
various  gesture. 

Argumentative  thought,  stirring  appeals,  impassioned 
addresses  will  require  bold,  energetic  and  magnificent 
gesticulation. 

Strong  emotion,  violent  passion  will  require  gestures 
corresponding  to  the  feeling  expressed.  This  can  only 
be  determined  by  a  careful  study  of  the  passions. 

The  importance  of  a  good  carriage  and  a  pleasing 
address  in  appearing  before  an  audience  cannot  be 
overestimated. 

It  is  from  these  the  audience  receive  their  lirst  im- 
pressions of  the  speaker,  and  as  their  minds  are  not  sup- 
posed to  be  occupied  with  any  thing  else,  they  are  per- 
fectly free  to  criticise  his  manner. 

These  movements,  then,  demand  special  attention.  He 
should  omit  no  proper  mode  of  expressing  respect  for 
those  before  him,  and  thus  bespeaking  their  favor.  In 
general  terms,  so  far  as  movement  and  gesture  are  con- 
cerned, the  orator  should  present  himself  to  the  audience 
modestly,  and  without  any  show  of  self-confidence. 

After  taking  his  position   before  the   audience  the 


188  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

speaker  should  make  a  very  slight  bow  by  a  gentle  bend 
of  the  whole  body. 

In  many  cases,  as  in  the  sacred  desk,  the  bow  should 
be  omitted  altogether. 

Before  leaving  this  part  of  the  subject  it  may  Ije  vv^ell 
to  call  attention  to  some 

Significant  Gestures. 

The  Head  and  Face. 

The  hanging  down  of  the  head  denotes  shame  or  grief; 
The  holding  of  it  up,  pride  or  courage. 
To  nod  forward  implies  assent ; 
To  toss  the  head  back,  dissent. 

The  inclination  of  the  head  implies  diffidence  dt 
languor. 

The  head  is  averted  in  dislike  or  horror. 
It  leans  forward  in  attention. 

The  Eyes. 

The  eyes  are  raised  in  prayer. 
They  weep  in  sorrow. 
They  burn  in  anger. 

They  are  downcast  or  averted  in  shame  or  grief. 
They  are  cast  on  vacancy  in  thought. 
They  are   cast  in   various   directions   in   doubt  and 
anxiety. 

The  Arms. 

The  placing  of  the  hand  on  the  head  indicates  paiD  oi 
distress ; 

On  the  eyes,  shame  or  sorrow ; 

On  the  lips,  an  injunction  of  silence  ; 

On  the  breast,  an  appeal  to  conscience. 

The  hand  is  waved  or  flourished  in  joy  or  contempt 


ADAPTATION  OF   GESTUEE.  189 

Both  hands  are  held  supine,  or  they  are  applied  or 
clasped  in  prayer. 

Both  are  held  prone  in  bletysing. 

They  are  clasped  or  wrung  in  affliction. 

They  are  held  forward  and  received  in  friendship. 

The  Body. 

The  body,  held  erect,  indicates  steadiness  and  courage ; 

Thrown  back,  pride ; 

Stooping  forward,  condescension  or  compassion  ; 

Bending,  reverence  or  respect ; 

Prostrate,  the  utmost  humility  or  abasement. 

The  Lower  Limbs. 

The  firm  position  of  the  lower  limbs  signifies  courage 
or  obstmacy. 

Bended  knees  indicate  timidity  or  weakness. 

The  lower  limbs  advance  in  desire  or  courage. 

They  retire  in  aversion  or  fear ; 

Start,  in  terror ; 

Stamp,  in  authority  or  anger  ; 

Kneel,  in  submission  and  prayer. 

These  are  a  few  of  the  simple  gestures  which  may  be 
termed  significant. 

SECTION  XI. 
THE   EYE   AND    COUNTENANCE. 

The  Countenance  has  the  greatest  power  of  expr43ssion, 
and  the  Eye  is  the  most  expressive  of  all  the  features. 

So  great  is  the  facial  power  of  expression  that  we  cau 
truly  say  "  a  speaking  countenance."  In  the  language  of 
Quintilian,  "  This  is  the  dominant  power  of  expression. 
With  this  we  supplicate ;  with  this  we  threaten ;  with 


190  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

this  we  soothe ;  with  this  we  mourn  ;  with  this  we  re- 
joice ;  with  this  we  triumph ;  with  this  we  make  our 
submissions ;  upon  this  the  audience  hang ;  upon  tliis 
they  keep  their  eyes  fixed  ;  this  they  examine  and  study 
even  before  a  word  is  spoken ;  this  it  is  which  excites  in 
til  em  favorable  or  unfavorable  emotions  ;  from  this  they 
understand  almost  every  thing ;  often  it  becomes  more 
significant  than  any  words." 

It  is  said  of  Whitefield,  the  Prince  of  Pulpit  Orators 
His  fiice  was  like  a  canvas,  and  upon  it  he  painted  every 
passion  that  stirs  the  human  breast.  It  was  at  one  mo- 
ment terrific,  as  if  all  the  furies  were  enthroned  on  that 
dark  brow;  and  next,  as  by  a  dissolving  view,  there  would 
come  forth  an  angelic  sweetness  that  savored  of  heaven. 

"  The  expressive  power  of  the  eye  is  so  great  that  it 
determines,  in  a  manner,  the  expression  of  the  whole 
countenance.  Through  it  the  soul  makes  its  most  clear 
and  vivid  manifestations  of  itself.  Joy  and  grief,  anger, 
pride,  scorn,  hatred,  love,  jealousy,  pity ;  in  a  word,  all 
the  passions  and  emotions  of  the  human  heart  in  all  their 
degrees  and  outer  workings  with  each  other,  express  them- 
selves, with  the  utmost  fullness  and  power,  in  the  eyes. 

"  Even  animals  are  susceptible  of  its  power.  The  dog 
watches  the  eye  of  his  master,  and  discovers  from  it, 
before  a  word  is  spoken,  whether  he  is  .  j  expect  a  caress 
or  apprehend  chastisement. 

"The  lion  cannot  attack  a  man  so  long  as  th^  man 
looks  him  steadily  in  the  eyes. 

''In' order  that  the  speaker  may  avail  himself  of  this 
great  and  mysterious  power  of  expression  he  must  not 
allow  his  eyes  to  become  fixed  upon  his  manuscript,  nor 
to  assume  a  vacant  expression  under  the  influence  of  the 
intellectual  operation  of  invention  or  rei]ieinb(?ring,  nor 
to  wander  around  the  walls  of  the  audieuce-room,  nor  to 


THE  PASSIONS.  191 

follow  the  motions  of  the  han^ls  as  if  the  speaker  were 
looking  at  them.  He  must  look  at  the  audience,  and 
scan  their  faces  individually,  in  order  to  open  a  personal 
communication  between  himself  and  every  one  of  them, 
lie  should  not  allow  his  eye  to  wander  from  the 
audience  except  when,  by  a  glance,  he  indicates  the  di- 
rection of  a  gesture.  Thus  he  will  be  enabled  to  com- 
mand their  attention  and  awaken  their  sym]3athy,  and 
his  eye  will  naturally  express  and  convey  to  them  all 
the  passions  and  emotions  of  his  own  heart." 


SECTION  XII. 


,  * 


THE   PASSIONS.' 

It  now  remains  to  say  something  of  those  expressions 
of  countenance  which  mark  the  passions  and  emotions 
of  the  speaker.  A  full  description  of  eacli  would  far 
transcend  the  bounds  of  a  work  of  this  kind.  Only  a 
few  can  be  noticed,  and  these  but  briefly. 

"  It  should  be  remarked  in  passing  that  feeling  cannot 
be  expressed  by  words  alone,  or  even  by  the  tones  of  the 
voice.  It  finds  its  best,  and  ofttimes  its  only,  expression 
in  the  flash  of  passion  on  the  cheek,  in  the  speaking  eye, 
the  contracted  brow,  the  compressed  lip,  the  heaving 
breast,  the  trembling  frame,  in  the  rigid  muscle  and  the 
general  bearing  of  the  entire  body ;  and  when  emotion 
or  passion  thus  speaks,  its  language  is  often  confined  to 
no  particular  part  of  the  body,  but  the  living  frame  as  a 
whole  sympathizes  in  the  action." 

Aaron  Hill,  in  his  Essay  on  the  Art  of  Actmg,  has 
made  a  bold  attempt  at  such  a  description  of  the  pas- 
sions as  may  enable  an  actor  or  orator  to  adopt  them 
mechanically,  by  showing  that  all  the  passions  require 

*  Tlie  following  pages,  on  the  Passions,  have  been  adapted  from 
Walker's  Elocution. 


192  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

either  a  braced  or  relaxed  state  of  the  sinews,  and  a 
peculiar  cast  of  the  eye. 

It  is  certain  that  all  the  passions,  when  violent,  brace 
the  sinews ;  grief  which,  when  moderate,  may  be  said  to 
melt  or  relax  the  frame,  when  accompanied  by  anguish 
and  bitter  complainings  becomes  active  and  bracing. 
Pity  seems  never  to  rise  to  a  sufficient  degree  of  sorrow 
to  brace  the  sinews,  and  anger,  even  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree, seems  to  give  a  kind  of  tension  to  the  voice  and 
limbs.  Thus  Shakspeare  has  given  us  an  admirable  pict- 
ure of  this  passion  in  its  violence,  and  has  made  this 
violent  tension  of  the  sinews  a  considerable  part  of  its 
composition. 

Now  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger  1 
Stififen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood ; 
Lend  fierce  and  dreadful  aspect  to  the  eye; 
Set  the  teeth  close,  and  stretch  the  nostrils  wide ; 
Hold  hard  the  breath,  and  bend  up  every  spirit 
To  its  full  height. 

To  this  might  be  added  that  admirable  picture  of  vio- 
lent anger  which  Shakspeare  puts  in  the  mouth  of  Suf- 
folk in  the  second  part  of  Henry  VI. : 

Would  curses  kill,  as  doth  the  mandrake's  groan, 
I  would  invent  as  bitter,  searching  terms, 
As  curst,  as  harsh,  and  horrible  to  hear, 
DeUvered  strongly  through  my  fixed  teeth, 
"With  full  as  many  signs  of  deadly  hate 
As  lean-faced  Envy  in  her  loathsome  cave. 
My  tongue  should  stumble  in  mine  earnest  words, 
Mine  eyes  should  sparkle  like  the  beaten  flint, 
Mine  hair  be  fixed  on  end  like  one  distract. 
Ay,  every  joint  should  seem  to  curse  and  ban ; 
And  even  now  my  burdened  heart  would  break. 
Should  I  not  curse  them. 

Who  can  read  these  admirable  descriptions  of  anger 
without  feeling  his  whole  frame  braced,  and  his  mind 


A  PICTURE   OF  THE   PASSIOI^JS.  193 

*  Strongly  tinctured  with  the  passion  delineated?  IIovv 
much  is  it  to  be  regretted  that  so  great  a  master  of  the 
passions  as  Shakspeare  has  not  left  us  a  description  simi- 
lar to  this  of  every  emotion  of  the  soul !  But  though  he 
has  not  described  every  other  passion  like  this,  he  has 
placed  them  all  in  such  marking  points  of  view  as  ena- 
bles us  to  see  the  workings  of  the  human  heart  from  his 
writings  in  a  clearer  and  more  affecting  way  than  in  any 
other  of  our  poets;  and  perhaps  the  best  description 
that  could  be  given  us  of  the  passions  in  any  language 
may  be  extracted  from  the  epithets  he  has  made  use  of 

SECTION  XIII. 

A   PICTURE   OF   THE   PASSIONS. 
TKANQUILLITY. 

Tranquillity  appears  by  the  composure  of  the  counte 
nance  and  general  repose  of  the  whole  body,  without 
the  exertion  of  any  one  muscle.  The  countenance  open, 
the  forehead  smooth,  the  eyebrows  arched,  the  mouth 
not  quite  shut,  and  the  eyes  passing  with  an  easy  motion 
from  object  to  object,  but  not  dwelling  long  'upon  any 
one.  To  distinguish  it,  however,  from  insensibility  it 
seems  necessary  to  give  it  that  cast  of  happiness  which 
borders  on  cheerfulness. 

CHEERFULNESS. 

When  joy  is  settled  into  a  habit,  or  flows  from  a  placid 
temper  of  mind,  desiring  to  please  and  be  pleased,  it  is 
called  gayety,  good  humor,  or  cheerfulness.  Cheei-ful- 
ness  adds  a  smile  to  tranquillity,  and  opens  the  mouth 
a  little  more. 

Cheerfulness  in  Retirement 

Now,  my  co-mates  and  brothers  in  exile, 
Hath  not  old  custom  made  this  life  more  sweet 
13 


194  SCIENCE   OF  elocutions". 

Than  that  of  painted  pomp  ?    Are  not  tliese  woods 
More  free  from  peril  than  the  envious  court  ? 
Here  feel  we  but  the  penalty  of  Adam, 
The  season's  difference ;  as  the  icy  fang 
And  churlish  chiding  of  the  winter's  wind, 
Which,  when  it  bites  and  blows  upon  my  body 
Even  till  I  shrink  with  cold,  I  smile  and  say, 
This  is  no  flattery ;  these  are  counselors 
That  feehngly  persuade  me  what  I  am. 
Sweet  are  the  uses  of  adversity. 
That  hke  a  toad,  ugly  and  venomous, 
"Wears  yet  a  precious  jewel  in  its  head ; 
And  this  our  life  exempt  from  public  haunts, 
Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  tbe  running  brooks, 
Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing. 

— As  You  Like  It 

MIRTH. 

When  joy  arises  from  ludicrous  or  fugitive  amuse* 
ments  in  which  others  share  with  us  it  is  called  merri- 
ment or  mirth. 

Mirth  or  laughter  opens  the  mouth  horizontally,  raises 
the  cheeks  high,  lessens  the  aperture  of  the  eyes,  and, 
when  violent,  shakes  and  convulses  the  whole  frame,  fills 
the  eyes  with  tears,  and  occasions  holding  the  sides  from 
the  pain  the  convulsive  laughter  gives  them. 

Jaq.  A  fool,  a  fool  1     I  met  a  fool  i'  the  forest, 
A  motley  fool ;  a  miserable  world ! 
As  I  do  live  by  food,  I  met  a  fool  ; 
Who  laid  him  dowu  and  basked  him  in  the  sun, 
And  railed  on  lady  Fortune,  in  good  terms, 
In  good  set  terms,  and  yet  a  motley  fool. 
Grood-morrow,  fool,  quoth  I:  No,  sir,  quoth  he, 
Call  me  not  fool  till  heaven  hath  sent  me  fortune ; 
And  then  he  drew  a  dial  from  his  poke ; 
And  looking  on  it  with  lack-luster  eye, 
Says,  very  wisely.  It  is  ten  o'clock. 
Thus  may  we  see,  quoth  he,  how  the  world  wags. 
'Tis  but  an  hour  ago  since  it  was  nine, 
And  after  an  hour  more  'twill  be  eleven ; 


A  PICTURE   OF  THE   PASSIONS.  J  95 

And  so  from  hour  to  hour  we  ripe  and  ripe, 
And  then  from  hour  to  hour  we  rot  and  rot, 
And  thereby  hangs  a  tale.     When  I  did  hear 
The  motley  fool  thus  moral  on  the  time, 
My  lungs  began  to  crow  like  chanticleer, 
That  fools  should  be  so  deep  contemplative ; 
And  I  did  laugh,  sans  intermission, 
An  hour  by  his  dial.     0  noble  fool  1 
A  worthy  fool  1     Motley's  the  only  wear. 

JOY. 

A  pleasing  elation  of  mind  on  the  actual  or  assured 
attain meiA  of  good,  or  deliverance  from  evil,  is  called 
joy. 

Joy,  when  moderate,  opens  the  countenance  with 
smiles,  and  throws,  as  it  were,  a  sunshine  of  delectation 
over  the  who^o  frame.  When  it  is  sudden  and  violent 
it  expresses  itself  by  clapping  the  hands,  raising  the 
eyes  toward  heaven,  and  giving  such  a  spring  to  the 
body  as  to  make  it  attempt  to  mount  up  as  if  it  could 
fly.  When  joy  is  extreme,  and  goes  into  transport, 
rapture  and  ecstacy,  it  has  a  wildness  of  look  and  gest- 
ure that  borders  on  folly,  madness  and  sorrow. 

Joy  Expected. 
All  I  Juliet,  if  the  measure  of  thy  joy 
Be  heaped  like  mine,  and  that  thy  skill  be  more 
To  blazon  it,  then  sweeten  with  thy  breath 
This  neighbor  air,  and  let  rich  music's  tongue 
Unfold  the  imagined  happiness  that  both 
Receive  in  either  by  this  dear  encounter. 

— Borneo  and  Juliet, 

Joy  Approaching  to  Transport. 
Oil !  joy,  thou  welcome  stranger,  twice  three  years 
I  have  not  felt  thy  vital  beam,  but  now 
It  warms  my  veins,  and  plays  about  my  heart  j 
A  fiery  instinct  lifts  me  from  the  ground, 
And  I  could  mount. 

— Dr.  Young's  Revenge. 


196  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

PITY. 
Pity  is  benevolence  to  the  afflicted.  It  is  a  mixture 
of  love  for  an  object  that  suffers,  and  a  grief  that  we  are 
not  able  to  remove  those  sufferings.  It  shows  itself  in  a 
comj3assionate  tenderness  of  voice,  a  feeling  of  pain  in 
the  countenance,  and  a  gentle  raising  and  falling  of  the 
hands  and  eyes,  as  if  mourning  over  the  unhappy  object. 
The  mouth  is  open,  the  eyebrows  are  drawn  down,  and 
the  features  contracted  or  drawn  together. 

Pity  for  a  Departed  Friend. 
Alas !  poor  Yorick  I  I  knew  him,  Horatio ;  a  fellow  of  infinite 
jest,  of  most  excellent  fancy.  He  bath  borne  me  on  his  back  a  thou- 
sand times,  and  now  how  abhorred  in  my  imagination  it  is ;  my  gorge 
rises  at  it.  Here  hung  those  hps  that  I  have  kissed  I  know  not  how 
oft.  "Where  be  your  gibes  now  ?  Your  gambols  ?  Your  songs  ? 
Your  flashes  of  merriment,  that  were  wont  to  set  the  table  in  a  roar  ? 
Not  one  now  to  mock  your  own  grinning!  Quite  chop-fallen  I  Now 
get  thee  to  my  lady's  chamber,  and  tell  her,  let  her  paint  an  inch  thick, 
to  this  favor  she  must  come ;  make  her  laugh  at  that. — Hamlet. 

HOPE. 

Hope  is  a  mixture  of  desire  and  joy  agitating  the 
mind  and  anticipating  its  enjoyment.  It  erects  and 
brightens  the  countenance,  spreads  the  arms  and  hands 
open  as  to  receive  the  object  cf  its  wishes.  The  voice  is 
plaintive  and  inclining  to  eagerness,  the  breath  drawn 
inward  more  forcibly  than  usual  in  order  to  express  our 
desires  more  strongly,  and  our  earnest  expectation  of 
receiving  the  object  of  them. 

Collins,  in  his  Ode  on  the  Passions,  gives  us  a  beauti- 
ful picture  of 

Hope, 

But  thou,  0  Hope !  with  eyes  so  fair, 

What  was  thy  delighted  measure  ? 

Still  it  whispered  promised  pleasure, 
And  bade  the  lovely  scenes  at  distance  hail. 


A  PICTURE   OF  THE   Pj^SSIONS.  197 

Still  would  her  touch  the  strain  prolong, 
And  from  the  rocks,  the  woods,  the  vale, 

She  called  on  Echo  still  through  all  her  song ; 
And,  where  her  sweetest  theme  she  chose, 
A  soft  responsive  voice  was  heard  at  every  clos€, 
And  Hope,  enchanted,  smiled,  and  waved  her  golden  hair. 

HATRED,  AVERSION. 

Hatred  or  aversion  draws  back  the  body  as  if  to  avoid 
the  hated  object,  the  hands  at  the  same  time  thrown 
outspread  as  if  to  keep  it  off.  The  face  is  turned  away 
from  that  side  toward  which  the  hands  are  thrown  out, 
the  eyes  looking  angrily  and  obliquely  the  same  way  the 
hands  are  directed  ;  the  eyebrows  are  contracted,  the 
upper  lip  disdainfully  drawn  up,  and  the  teeth  set ;  the 
pitch  of  the  voice  is  low,  but  loud  and  harsh,  the  tone 
chiding,  unequal,  surly  and  vehement. 

Hatred  Cursing  the  Object  Hated. 

Poison  be  their  drink. 
Gall,  worse  than  gall,  the  daintiest  meat  they  taste : 
Their  sweetest  shade  a  grove  of  cypress  trees, 
Their  sweetest  prospects  murdering  basihsks. 
Their  softest  touch  as  smart  as  lizards'  stings, 
Their  music  frightful  as  the  serpent's  hiss. 
And  boding  screech-owls  make  the  concert  full ; 
All  the  foul  terrors  of  dark-seated  helL 

— Henry  VI. 

This  seems  Imitated  hy  Dr.  Toung. 

Why,  get  thee  gone,  horror  and  night  go  with  thee. 
Sisters  of  Acheron,  go  hand  in  hand, 
Go  dance  about  the  bower  and  close  them  in ; 
And  teU  them  that  I  sent  you  to  salute  them. 
Profane  the  ground,  and  for  th'  ambrosial  rose 
And  breath  of  jessamin,  let  hemlock  blacken, 
And  deadly  night-shade  poison  aU  the  air  : 
For  the  sweet  nightingale  may  ravens  croak, 
Toads  pant,  and  adders  rustle  through  the  leaves: 


198  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

May  serpents,  winding  up  the  trees,  let  fall 
Their  hissing  necks  upon  them  from  above, 
And  mingle  hisses — such  as  I  would  give  them. 

— The  Revenge, 
Hatred  of  a  Rival  in  Glory. 
He  is  my  bane,  I  cannot  bear  him  ; 
One  heaven  and  earth  can  never  hold  us  both ; 
Still  shall  we  hate,  and  with  defiance  deadly 
Keep  rage  alive  till  one  be  lost  for  ever ; 
As  if  two  suns  should  meet  in  one  meridian, 
And  strive  in  fiery  oombat  for  the  passage. 

— Rowe's  Tamerlane, 

ANGER,   RAGE,   FURY. 

When  hatred  and  displeasure  rise  high  suddenly 
from  an  apprehension  of  injury  received,  aud  perturba- 
tion of  mind  in  consequence  of  it,  it  is  called  anger;  and 
rising  to  a  very  high  degree,  and  extinguishing  human- 
ity, it  becomes  rage  and  fury. 

Anger,  when  violent,  expresses  itself  with  rapidity, 
noise,  harshness,  and  sometimes  with  interruption  and 
hesitation,  as  if  unable  to  utter  itself  with  sufficient  force. 
It  wrinkles  the  brow,  enlarges  and  heaves  the  nostrils, 
strains  the  muscles,  clinches  the  fist,  stamps  with  the 
foot,  and  gives  a  violent  agitation  to  the  whole  body. 
The  voice  assumes  the  highest  tone  it  can  adopt  consist- 
ently with  force  and  loudness,  though  sometimes,  to 
express  anger  with  uncommon  energy,  the  voice  assumes 
a  low  and  forcible  tone. 

Anger  and  Scorn. 
Thou  den  of  drunkards  with  the  blood  of  princes  I 
Oehenna  of  the  waters  I  thou  sea  Sodom  I 
Thus  I  devote  thee  to  the  infernal  gods ! 
Thee  and  thy  serpent  seed !     Slave,  do  thine  ofSce! 
Strike  as  I  struck  the  foe !     Strike  as  I  would 
Have  struck  those  tyrants  1     Strike  deep  as  my  curse ! 
Strike,  and  but  once. 


A  PICTURE   OF   THE   PASSIONS.  199 

Scorn  and  Violent  Anger^  Reproving. 
G-race  me  no  grace,  nor  uncle  me  no  uncle ; 
I  am  no  traitor's  uncle ;  and  that  word — grace, 
In  an  ungracious  mouth  is  but  profane. 
"Wliy  have  those  banished  and  forbidden  legs 
Dared  once  to  touch  a  dust  of  England's  ground  ? 
But  more  than  why — why  have  they  dared  to  march 
So  many  miles  upon  her  peaceful  bosom  ; 
Frightening  her  pale-faced  villages  with  war, 
And  ostentation  of  despised  arms  ? 
Comest  thou  because  the  anointed  king  is  hence  ? 
"Why,  foolish- boy,  the  king  is  left  behind, 
And  in  my  loyal  bosom  lies  his  power. 
Were  I  but  now  the  lord  of  such  hot  youth 
As  when,  brave  Gaunt,  thy  father  and  myself 
Rescued  the  Black  Prince,  that  young  Mars  of  men, 
From  forth  the  ranks  of  many  thousand  French ; 
0,  then,  how  quickly  should  this  arm  of  mine, 
Now  prisoner  to  the  palsy,  chastise  thee. 
And  minister  correction  to  tliy  fault ! 

— Richard  11. 

REVENGE. 

Revenge  is  a  propensity  and  endeavor  to  injure  the 
offender,  which  is  attended  with  triumph  and  exultation 
when  the  injury  is  accomplished.  It  expresses  itself  like 
malice,  but  more  openly,  loudly  and  triumphantly. 

Determi7ied  Revenge. 
I  know  not :  if  they  speak  but  truth  of  her, 
These  hands  shall  tear  her ;  if  they  wrong  her  honor 
The  proudest  of  them  shall  well  hear  it. 
Time  hath  not  yet  so  dried  this  blood  of  mine, 
Nor  age  so  eat  up  my  invention, 
Nor  fortune  made  such  havoc  of  my  means, 
Nor  my  bad  life  'reft  me  so  much  of  friends, 
But  they  shall  find  awaked  in  such  a  kind. 
Both  strength  of  limb  and  policy  of  mind, 
Ability  in  means,  and  choice  of  friends 
To  quit  me  of  them  thoroughly. 

— Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 


200  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Eager  Revenge. 
0  I  could  play  the  woman  with  mine  eyea, 
And  braggart  with  my  tongue  I     But,  gentle  heaven. 
Cut  short  all  intermission :  front  to  front, 
Bring  thou  this  fiend  of  Scotland  and  myself; 
Witliin  my  sword's  length  set  him ;  if  he  'scape, 
Heaven  forgive  him  too  1 

—Macbeth. 

REPROACH. 

Reproach  is  settled  anger  or  hatred,  chastising  the 
object  of  dislike  by  casting  in  his  teeth  the  severest  cen- 
sures npon  his  imperfections  or  misconduct.  The  brow 
is  contracted,  the  lip  turned  up  with  scorn,  the  head 
shaken,  the  voice  low,  as  if  abhorring,  and  the  whole 
bpdy  expressive  of  aversion. 

Reproaching  with  Want  of  Friendship. 
You  have  done  that  you  should  be  sorry  for 
There  is  no  terror,  Cassius,  in  your  threats ; 
For  I  am  armed  so  strong  in  honesty, 
That  they  pass  me  by  as  the  idle  wind  ' 

Which  I  respect  not.     I  did  send  to  you 
For  certain  sinus  of  gold,  which  you  denied  me ; 
For  I  can  raise  no  money  by  vile  means : 
By  heaven,  I  had  rather  coin  my  heart, 
And  drop  my  blood  for  drachmas,  than  to  wring 
From  the  hard  hands  of  peasants  their  vile  trash 
By  any  indirection.     I  did  send 
To  you  for  gold  to  pay  my  legions, 
Which  you  denied  me.     Was  that  done  like  Cassius? 
Should  I  have  answered  Caius  Cassius  so  ? 
When  Marcus  Brutus  grows  so  covetous, 
To  lock  such  rascal  counters  from  his  friends, 
Be  ready,  gods,  with  all  your  thunderbolts ; 
Dash  him  to  pieces  1 

Rep^^oach  with  Want  of  Courage  and  Spirit. 
Thou  slave  !  thou  wretch  I  thou  coward  I 
Thou  little  valiant,  great  in  villainy  1 


A  PICTUKE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  201 

Thou  ever  strong  upon  the  stronger  side  I 
Thou  fortune's  champion,  thou  dost  never  fight 
But  when  her  humorous  ladyship  is  by 
To  teach  thee  safety  1 .  Thou  art  perjured,  too, 
And  sooth'st  up  greatness.    What  a  fool  art  thou, 
A  ramping  fool,  to  brag,  and  stamp,  and  sweat, 
Upon  my  party  I     Thou  cold-blooded  slave, 
Hast  thou  not  spoke  like  thunder  on  my  side  ? 
Been  sworn  my  soldier  ?  bidding  me  depend 
Upon  thy  stars,  thy  fortune,  and  thy  strength  ? 
And  dost  thou  now  fall  over  to  my  foes  ? 
Thou  wear  a  lion's  hide  ?     Doff  it  for  shame, 
And  hang  a  calfs  skin  on  those  recreant  limbs. 

FEAR   AND   TERROE. 

Fear  is  a  mixture  of  aversion  and  sorrow,  discompos- 
ing and  debilitating  the  mind  upon  the  approach  or  an- 
ticipation of  evil.  When  this  is  attended  with  surprise 
and  much  discomposure  it  grows  into  terror  and  con- 
sternation. 

Fear,  violent  and  sudden,  opens  wide  the  eyes  and 
mouth,  shortens  the  nose,  gives  the  countenance  an  air 
of  wildness,  covei's  it  with  deadly  paleness,  draws  back 
the  elbows  parallel  with  the  sides,  lifts  up  the  open 
hands,  with  the  fingers  spread,  to  the  height  of  the 
breast,  at  some  distance  before  it,  so  as  to  shield  it  from 
the  dreadful  object.  One  foot  is  drawn  back  behind  the 
other,  so  that  the  body  seems  shrinking  from  the  dan- 
ger, and  putting  itself  in  a  posture  for  flight.  The  heart 
beats  violently,  the  breath  is  quick  and  short,  and  the 
whole  body  is  thrown  into  a  general  tremor.  The  voice 
m  weak  and  trembling,  the  sentences  are  short  and  the 
meaning  confused  and  incoherent. 

Terror  of  Evening  and  Mght  Described, 
Light  thickens ;  and  the  crow 
Makes  wing  to  the  rooky  wood ; 


202  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Good  things  of  day  begin  to  droop  and  drouse ; 
While  night's  black  agents  to  their  prey  do  rouse. 
Thou  marvel' st  at  my  words;  but  hold  thee  still; 
Things  bad  begun,  make  strong  themselves  by  ill. 

— Macbeth. 

Fear  from  a  Dreadful  Object 

Angels  and  ministers  of  grace,  defend  us  1 
•     Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damned, 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell, 

Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable, 

Thou  com'st  in  such  a  questionable  shape 

That  I  will  speak  to  thee.     I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 

King,  father  1     Royal  Dane :  0  answer  me ! 

liCt  me  not  burst  in  ignorance. 

— Hamlet 

Horror  at  a  Dreadful  Apparition. 

How  ill  this  taper  burns !  ha  1  who  comes  here  ? 
I  think  it  is  tlie  weakness  of  mine  eyes 
That  shapes  this  monstrous  apparition. 
It  comes  upon  me.     Art  thou  any  thing  ? 
Art  thou  some  god,  some  angel,  or  some  devil. 
That  mak'st  my  blood  cold,  and  my  hair  to  stare. 
Speak  to  me,  what  thou  art  I 

— Julius  Cesar. 

Fear  of  being  Discovered  in  Murder. 

Alack !  I  am  afraid  they  have  awaked, 
And  'tis  not  done  1  the  attempt,  and  not  the  deed. 
Confound  us.     Hark  1     I  laid  their  daggers  ready, 
He  could  not  miss  them  1     Had  he  not  resembled 
My  father  as  he  slept  I  had  done't ! 

— Macbeth. 

SOUROW. 

Sorrow  is  a  painful  depression  of  spirit  upon  the  depri- 
vation of  good  or  arrival  of  evil.  When  it  is  silent  and 
thoughtful  it  h  sadness ;  when  long  indulged,  so  as  to 
prey  upon  and  possess  the  mind,  it  becomes  liabitual,  and 
grows  into  melancholy ;  when  tossed  by  hopes  and  fears, 


A  PICTURE   OF  THE   PASSIONS.  203 

it  is  distraction ;  when  these  are  swallowed  up  by  it,  it 
settles  into  despair. 

In  moderate  sorrow  the  countenance  is  dejected,  the 
eyes  are  cast  downward,  the  arms  hang  loose,  sometimes 
a  little  raised,  suddenly  to  fall  again  ;  the  hands  open, 
the  fingers  spread,  and  the  voice  plaintive,  frequently 
interrupted  with  sighs.  But  when  this  passion  is  in  ex- 
cess it  distorts  the  couutenance,  as  if  in  agonies  of  pain  ; 
it  raises  the  voice  to  the  \oudest  complainings,  and  some- 
times even  to  cries  and  shrieks ;  it  wrings  the  hands, 
beats  the  head  and  breast,  tears  the  hair,  and  throws 
itself  on  the  ground,  and,  like  other  passions  in  excess, 
Beems  to  border  on  frenzy. 

Sadness. 

In  sooth,  I  know  not  why  I  am  so  sad. 
It  wearies  me ;  you  say  it  wearies  you : 
But  how  I  caught  it,  found  it,  or  came  by  it, 
"What  stuff  'tis  made  of,  whereof  'tis  born, 
I  am  to  learn. 

And  such  a  want- wit  sadness  makes  of  me, 
That  I  have  much  ado  to  know  myself. 

Silent  Grief.       ^ 

Seems,  madam  1  nay,  it  is  ;  I  know  not  seems. 
'Tis  not  alone  my  inky  cloak,  good  mother, 
Nor  the  dejected  'havior  of  the  visage, 
No,  nor  the  fruitful  river  in  the  eye, 
Together  with  all  forms,  modes,  shows  of  griet. 
That  can  denote  me  truly :  these,  indeed,  seem, 
For  they  are  actions  that  a  man  might  play ; 
But  I  have  that  within  which  passeth  show ; 
These  but  the  trappings  and  the  suits  of  woe. 

SNEER. 

Sneer  is  ironical  approbation,  where,  with  a  voice  and 
countenance  of  mirth  somewhat  exaggerated,  we  cast 


204  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTIOlSr. 

the  severest  censures ;  it  is  hypocritical  mirth  and  good 
humor,  and  differs  from  the  real  by  the  sly,  arch,  satir 
ical  tone  of  voice,  look  and  gesture  which  accompany  it* 

Scoffing  at  Supposed  Cowardice. 

Satan  beheld  their  plight, 

And  to  his  mates  thus  in  derision  called : 

0  friends,  why  come  not  on  these  victors  proud? 

Erewhile  they  iSerce  were  coming,  and  when  we, 

To  entertain  them  fair  with  open  front 

And  breast,  (what  could  we  more  ?)  propounded  terms 

Of  composition,  straight  they  changed  their  minds, 

Flew  off,  and  into  strange  vagaries  fell. 

As  they  would  dance ;  yet  for  a  dance  they  seemed 

Somewhat  extravagant  and  wild,  perhaps 

For  joy  of  offered  peace ;  but  I  suppose, 

If  air  proposals  once  again  were  heard, 

"We  should  compel  them  to  a  quick  result. 

— Paradise  Lost. 

SUEPRISE,   WONDER,   AMAZEMENT,   ASTONISHMENT. 

An  uncommon  object  produces  wonder.  If  it  appeal's 
suddenly  it  begets  surprise,  surprise  continuing  becomes 
amazement,  and,  if  the  object  of  wonder  comes  gently  to 
the  mind,  and  arrests  the  attention  by  its  beauty  or  grand- 
eur, it  excites  admiration,  which  is  a  mixture  of  appro- 
bation and  wonder :  so  true  is  that  observation  of  Dr. 
Young  in  the  tragedy  of  the  Revenge : 

Late  time  shall  wonder  that  my  joys  shall  raise, 
For  wonder  is  involuntary  praise. 

Wonder  or  amazement  opens  the  eyes  and  makes 
them  appear  very  prominent.  It  sometimes  raises  them  to 
the  skies,  but  more  frequently  fixes  them  on  the  object. 
The  mouth  is  open,  and  the  hands  are  held  up  nearly 
in  the  attitude  of  fear.  The  voice  is  at  first  low,  but  so 
emphatical  that  every  word  is  pronounced  slowly  and 


A  PICTUKE  OF  THE  PASSIONS.  205 

with  energy.  When,  by  the  discovery  of  something 
excellent  in  the  object  of  wonder,  the  emotion  may  be 
called  admiration,  the  eyes  are  raised,  the  hands  lifted 
up  or  clapped  together,  and  the  voice  elevated  with  ex- 
pressions of  rapture. 

Surprise  at  Unexpected  Events. 

Gone  to  be  married  ?  gone  to  swear  a  peace  ? 

False  blood  to  false  blood  joined?  gone  to  be  friends? 

Shall  Lewis  have  Blanche,  and  Blanche  those  provinces  ? 

It  is  not  so :  thou  hast  misspoke,  misheard : 

Be  well  advised,  tell  o'er  thy  tale  again : 

It  cannot  be  I  thou'  dost  but  say  'tis  so  I 

What  dost  thou  mean  by  shaking  of  thy  head  ? 

"Why  dost  thou  look  so  sadly  on  my  son  ? 

"What  means  that  hand  upon  that  breast  of  thine  ? 

"Why  holds  thine  eye  that  lamentable  rheum, 

Like  a  proud  river  peering  o'er  his  bounds  ? 

Be  these  sad  signs  confirmers  of  thy  words  ? 

Then  speak  again ;  not  all  thy  former  tale, 

But  this  one  word,  whether  thy  tale  be  true. 

— King  John, 
VEXATION. 

Vexation,  besides  expressing  itself  by  the  looks, 
gestures,  tone  and  restlessness  of  perplexity,  adds  to 
these  complaint,  fretting  and  remoi*se. 

Vexation  at  Neglecting  One^s  Duty. 

0  what  a  rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  1 1 

Is  it  not  monstrous,  that  this  player  here, 

But  in  a  fiction,  in  a  dream  of  passion, 

Could  force  his  soul  so  to  his  own  conceit, 

That,  from  her  working,  all  his  visage  wann'd: 

Tears  in  his  eyes,  distraction  in's  aspect, 

A  broken  voice,  and  his  whole  function  suiting 

"With  forms  to  his  conceit  ?     And  all  for  nothing  I 

For  Hecuba  1 

What's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba, 

That  he  should  weep  for  her  ? 

—Hamlet* 


206  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

SHAME. 
Shame,  or  a  sense  of  appearing  to  disadvantage  before 
one's  own  fellow-creatures,  turns  away  the  face  from  the 
beholders,  covers  it  with  blushes,  hangs  the  head,  casts 
down  the  eyes,  draws  down  and  contracts  the  eyebrows. 
It  either  strikes  the  person  dumb,  or,  if  he  attempts  to 
say  any  thing  in  his  own  defense,  causes  his  tongue  to 
falter,  confounds  his  utterance,  and  puts  him  upon  mak- 
ing a  thousand  gestures  and  grimaces  to  keep  himself  in 
countenance ;  all  which  only  heighten  his  confusion  and 
embarrassment. 

Shame  at  being  Convicted  of  a  Crime. 

0  my  dread  lord, 
I  should  be  guiltier  than  my  guiltiness, 
To  think  I  can  be  undiscernible 
When  I  perceive  your  grace,  like  power  divine, 
Hath  looked  upon  my  passes ;  then,  good  prince, 
No  longer  session  hold  upon  my  shame. 
But  let  my  trial  be  mine  own  confession : 
Immediate  sentence,  then,  and  sequent  death, 
Is  all  the  grace  I  beg. 

— Measure  for  Measure. 

GRAVITY. 

Gravity,  or  seriousness,  as  when  the  mind  is  fixed,  or 
deliberating  on  some  important  subject,  smooths  the 
countenance,  and  gives  it  an  air  of  melancholy ;  the  eye- 
brows are  lowered,  eyes  cast  downward,  the  mouth  al- 
most shut,  and  sometimes  a  little  contracted.  The  pos- 
ture of  the  body  and  limbs  is  composed,  and  without 
much  motion ;  the  speech  slow  and  solemn,  the  tone 
without  much  variety. 

Grave  Deliberation  on  War  and  Peace. 
Fathers,  we  once  again  are  met  in  council : 
Caesar's  approach  has  summoned  us  together, 


A  PICTUKE   OF  THE   PASSIONS.  207 

And  Rome  attends  her  fate  from  our  resolves. 

How  shall  we  treat  this  bold  aspiring  man  ? 

Success  still  follows  him  and  backs  his  crimes .' 

Pharsalia  gave  him  Rome.     Egypt  has  since 

Received  his  yoke,  and  the  whole  Nile  is  Cesar's. 

"Why  should  I  mention  Juba's  overthrow, 

Or  Scipio's  death  ?     Numidia's  burning  sands 

Still  smoke  with  blood ;  'tis  time  we  should  decree 

Wliat  course  to  take :  our  foe  advances  on  us, 

And  envies  us  even  Libya's  sultry  deserts. 

Fathers,  pronounce  your  thoughts ;  are  they  still  fixed, 

To  hold  it  out  and  fight  it  to  the  last  ? 

Or  are  your  hearts  subdued  at  length,  and  wrought, 

By  time  and  ill  success,  to  a  submission  ? 

Sempronius,  speak. 

— Addison's  Gato. 


COMMANDING. 

Commanding  requires  an  air  a  little  more  peremptory, 
with  a  look  a  little  severe  or  stern.  The  hand  is  held 
out  and  moved  toward  the  person  to  whom  the  order  is 
given,  with  the  palm  upward,  and  sometimes  it  is  ac- 
companied by  a  nod  of  the  head  to  the  person  com- 
manded. If  the  command  be  absolute,  and  to  a  person 
unwilling  to  obey,  the  right  hand  is  extended  and  pro- 
jected f-^^mbly  toward  the  person  commanded. 

Commanding  Gomlatants  to  Fight 

We  were  born  not  to  sue,  but  to  command ; 
Which  since  we  cannot  do  to  make  you  friends, 
Be  readj'',  as  your  lives  shall  answer  it. 
At  Coventry,  upon  St.  Lambert's  day; 
There  shall  your  swords  and  lances  arbitrate 
The  swelling  difference  of  your  settled  hate. 
Since  we  cannot  atone  you,  you  shall  see 
Justice  decide  the  victor's  chivalry. 
Lord  Marshal,  command  our  officers  at  arms 
Be  ready  to  direct  these  home  alarms. 

— lUchard  II. 


208  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Trifling  as  the  preceding  selection  of  examples  of  tlie 
passions  may  appear,  it  is  presumed  it  will  be  found 
singularly  useful  to  public  speakers  in  general,  and  to 
those  in  particular  who  are  training  themselves  or  are 
being  trained  for  the  elegant,  refined  and  dignified  art 
of  public  speaking. 


PAET    11. 
DEDUCTIONS, 


CHAPTER    I. 

STYLES. 

If  the  discussion  of  the  principles  under  Part  I,  Chapter 
III,  has  been  clearly  apprehended,  it  will  be  readily  per- 
ceived that  the  following  thirteen  styles  are  the  logical 
deductions  therefrom. 

In  some  one  of  these  styles,  or  a  combination  of  two 
or  more  of  them,  with  at  times,  in  the  expression  of 
certain  emotions  and  passions,  the  change  of  a  single 
attribute,  every  form  of  thought  and  feehng  may  be 
appropriately  and  impressively  delivered. 

To  attempt  to  read  or  speak  in  public  without  first 
determining  the  Form,  Quality,  Force,  Stress,  Pitch  and 
Movement,  the  sentiment  to  be  uttered  should  receive, 
will  be  as  little  likely  to  be  crowned  with  success  as 
would  be  the  effort  of  one  who  should  presume  to  sing 
in  public  without  first  determining  the  tune  he  would 
use  or  the  notes  composing  that  tune. 

To  assist  the  student,  therefore,  in  determining  the 
attributes  of  which  each  style  is  composed,  the  dia- 
gram on  the  following  page  is  commended  to  his  care- 
ful consideration. 

14 


210 


SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


H 

P 


OS 

pq 
»— » 

P^ 

EH 

H 
<1 

M 
t> 

l-H 
EH 

O  « 

H  I 
P5  I 

P5  I 


y 

3 

EH 

w 

P 

>> 

<1 

1 

W 

O 

<3 

125 

V 
^ 

p^ 

EH 

Ph 
O 

GQ 

M 
»^ 

H 

00 


o 

1 

CO 

1 
1 

o 

1 

1 

-2 

1 

1 

P^ 

b 
>^ 

a 

(S 

1 

1 
1 

1 

•i 

1 

nil 

03 

1 

§ 
1 

I 

03 

1 

Very  Slow. 
Slow. 
Moderate. 
Eapid. 
Very  Eapid. 

^8 

o 

o 

h-1 

O 

h5 

J2 

.be 

§ 

h4 

3 

1^ 

c 

03 

1 

fcc 

1 

i        i 

>A  d  .  a 
b  ^*  §  •§>  b 

t>  ^^  S  W  k 

Q)  O 

i 

1 
1 

p^ 
a 

1 

d 
S 

*s 

o 
1 

a 

d 

g 

1 

d 
S 

p^ 
d 
s 

be 

2 

o 

g 

o 

1 

d 

a 

o  . 

13 

1 

1 

1 

1 

a; 

i 

1 

d 

a 

i 

1 

1 

d 
1 

i 

d 

a 

Id 

c3 

d 

a 

.2 

Cm 

a 

-d    5    .2    1 

1  1  ^  ^ 

■s 

1 

11^ 

1 

3 

Ph 

6 
1 

6 

a 
o 
Eh 

1 

s 

§ 

d 
o 
O 

o 

•3 

'd 

1 
1 

d 
O 

03 

d 

1 

1  ^"  ^'  ^'  '^ 
^  1 1 1 1  ^ 

fS  O  -3  fS  C5  o 

Is 

i 

1 

1 
t 

fl 
OS 

d 

3, 

X 

d 
>< 

d 

CI. 

d 

'El 

§ 
d 

1 

d 
> 

1 

& 

.  1  1 

>.               CO               S 

1  s  s 

o 

1 
to 

O 

"3 
2 

: 
> 

5 

o 
o 

> 

3 

o 
o 

.§ 

o 
o 

2 
o 

1 
d 

o 

5 
1 

CLASSIFICATION.  211 

SECTION  I. 
EXPLANATION. 

In  the  following  classification  of  selections  it  is  not 
claimed  that  every  word,  or  even  every  line  of  each  se- 
lection, can  only  be  uttered,  appropriately,  in  the  style 
under  which  it  is  classed,  but  that  the  selection  as  a 
whole  belongs  under  that  style. 

It  not  unfrequently  will  happen  that  a  selection  will 
begin  in  one  style  and  close  in  another ;  nay  more,  the 
different  lines  of  a  single  verse  may  belong  under  as  many 
different  styles. 

As  there  is  a  grouping  belonging  to  each  style,  which 
consists  in  the  nice  modulation  of  the  voice  on  the  attri- 
butes belonging  to  that  style,  so  in  the  reading  of  any 
selection,  the  delivery  of  any  lecture,  S23eech,or  oration, 
there  is  a  grouping  of  the  delivery,  as  a  whole,  which  con- 
sists in  changing  the  style  of  utterance  to  suit  the  vary- 
ing sentiment  expressed. 

It  is  this  command  of  every  style  and  the  ability  to 
change  at  pleasure  which  so  distinguishes  the  delivery 
of  the  accomplished  speaker  from  that  of  the  untrained 
novice. 


212  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER    II. 

PATHETIC  STYLE. 

The  Pathetic  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
that  form  of  thought  which,  in  a  quiet  and  tranquil  man- 
ner, is  designed  to  move  the  tender  emotions — as  grief^ 
sorrow,  sadness,  etc. 

The  Death-Bed. 

TTwmas  Hood. 

1.  We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night, 

Her  breathing,  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  breast  the  wave  of  Ufe 
Kept  heaving  to  and  fro. 

2.  So  silently  we  seemed  to  speak, 

So  slowly  moved  about, 
As  we  had  lent  her  half  our  powers 
To  eke  her  Uving  out. 

3.  Our  very  hopes  belied  our  fears, 

Our  fears  our  hopes  belied  ; 
We  thought  her  dying  when  she  slept, 
And  sleeping  when  she  died. 

4.  For  when  the  morn  came,  dim  and  sad, 

And  chill  with  early  showers, 
Her  quiet  eyelids  closed — she  had 
Another  morn  than  ours. 


The  Pauper's  Death-Bbp» 

Mrs.  South&y. 
1.  Tread  softly ;  bow  the  head, 
In  reverent  silence  bow ; 
No  passing  bell  doth  toll ; 
Yet  an  immortal  soul 
Is  passing  now. 


PATHETIC    STYLE.  213 

2.  Stranger  1  however  great, 

With  lowly  reverence  bow ; 
There's  one  in  that  poor  shed, 
One  by  that  paltry  bed — 

Greater  than  thou. 

3.  Beneath  that  beggar's  roof, 

Lo  1  Death  doth  keep  his  state ; 
Enter;  no  crowds  attend; 
Enter ;  no  guards  defend 

This  palace-gate. 

4.  That  pavement,  damp  and  cold, 

No  smiling  courtiers  tread; 
One  silent  woman  stands, 
Lifting  with  meager  hands 

A  dying  head. 

6.  No  mingling  voices  sound : 
An  infant  wail  alone, 
A  sob  suppressed ;  again 
That  short,  deep  gasp — and  then 
The  parting  groan  1 

6.  0  change  1  0  wondrous  change ! 

Burst  are  the  prison-bars : 
This  moment  there,  so  low, 
So  agonized — and  now 

Beyond  the  stars! 

7.  0  change  1  stupendous  change  I 

There  lies  the  soulless  clod; 
The  sun  eternal  breaks, 
The  new  immortal  wakes — 

"Wakes  with  his  God. 


My  Mother's  Bible. 

Q,  p.  Morris. 

This  book  is  all  that's  lefl  me  now  I 

Tears  will  unbidden  start ; 
With  faltering"  hp  and  throbbing  brow, 

I  press  it  to  my  heart ; 


214  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

For  many  generations  past, 

Here  is  our  family  tree ; 
My  mother's  hands  this  Bible  clasped ; 

She,  dying,  gave  it  me. 

2.  Ah !  well  do  I  remember  those 

"Whose  names  these  records  bear, 
Who  rounu  the  hearth-stone  used  to  close 

After  the  evening  prayer ; 
And  speak  of  what  tliese  pages  said, 

In  tones  my  heart  v<ouId  thrill ; 
Though  they  are  with  the  silent  dead, 

Here  are  they  living  still. 

3.  My  father  read  this  holy  book 

To  brothers,  sisters,  dear : 
How  calm  was  my  dear  mother's  look, 

"Who  loved  God's  word  to  hear. 
Her  aged  face — I  see  it  yet. 

As  thronging  memories  come  I 
Again  that  little  group  is  met 

Within  the  halls  at  home  1 

4.  Thou  truest  friend  man  ever  knew. 

Thy  constancy  I've  tried ; 
When  all  were  false  I  found  thee  true^ 

My  counselor  and  guide. 
The  mines  of  earth  no  treasure  give 

That  could  tliis  volume  buy : 
In  teaching  me  the  way  to  live, 

It  taught  me  how  to  die. 


The  Old  Arm   Chair. 

Eliza  Cook, 

1.  I  love  it  I  I  love  it  1  and  who  shall  dare 
To  chide  me  for  loving  that  old  arm  chair  ? 
I've  treasured  it  long  as  a  sainted  prize, 
I've  bedewed  it  with  tears  and  embalmed  it  with  sighs ; 
'Tis  bound  by  a  thousand  bands  to  my  heart, 
Not  a  tie  will  break,  not  a  link  will  start; 
Would  you  know  the  spell  ?  a  mother  sat  there ; 
And  a  sacred  thing  is  that  old  arm  chair 


PATHETIC   STYLE. 


215 


2.  In  childhood's  hour  I  hugered  near 
That  hallowed  seat  with  a  listening  ear, 

To  the  gentle  words  that  mother  could  give, 

To  fit  me  to  die  and  teach  me  to  live ; 

She  told  me  shame  would  never  betide, 

"With  truth  for  my  creed,  and  God  for  my  guide ; 

She  taught  me  to  lisp  my  earliest  prayer 

As  I  knelt  beside  that  old  arm  chair. 

3.  I  sat  and  watched  her  many  a  day 

When  her  eyes  grew  dim,  and  her  locks  were  graj*, 
And  I  almost  worshiped  her  when  she  smiled 
And  turned  from  her  Bible  to  bless  her  child : 
Years  roiled  on,  but  the  last  one  sped. 
My  idol  was  shattered,  my  earth-star  fled  ! 
I  felt  how  much  the  heart  can  bear, 
■V\lien  I  saw  her  die  in  that  old  arm  chair. 

4. '  'Tis  past  I  'tis  past  1  but  I  gaze  on  it  now 
With  quivering  lip  and  throbbing  brow ; 
'Twas  there  she  nursed  me,  'twas  there  she  died, 
And  memory  still  flows  with  lava  tide. 
Say  it  is  folly,  and  deem  me  weak. 
As  the  scalding  drops  start  down  my  cheek ; 
But  I  love  it !  I  love  it  I  and  cannot  tear 
My  soul  from  my  mother's  old  arm  chair  1 


The  Burial  of  Arnold. 

ivr.  p.  Willis. 

1.  Te've  gathered  to  your  place  of  prayer 

With  slow  and  measured  tread  : 
Your  ranks  are  full,  your  mates  all  there ! 

But  the  soul  of  oneiias  fled. 
He  was  the  proudest  in  his  strength, 

The  manliest  of  ye  all ; 
Why  lies  he  at  that  fearful  length, 

And  ye  around  his  pall  ? 

2.  Ye  reckon  it  in  days  since  he 

Strode  up  that  foot-worn  aisle, 
With  his  dark  eye  flashing  gloriously, 
And  his  hp  wreathed  with  a  smile. 


216  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

0  had  it  been  but  told  you  then 
To  mark  whose  lamp  was  dim, 

From  out  yon  rank  of  fresh-lipped  men, 
Would  ye  have  singled  him  ? 

8.  Whose  was  the  sinewy  arm  which  flung 

Defiance  to  the  ring  ? 
Whose  laugh  of  victory  loudest  rung, 

Yet  not  for  glorying  ? 
Whose  heart,  in  generous  deed  and  thouj(hti 

No  rivalry  might  brook. 
And  yet  distinction  claiming  not  ? 

There  lies  he — go  and  look  I 

4   On  now,  his  requiem  is  done. 

The  last  deep  prayer  is  said ; 
On  to  his  burial,  comrades,  on, 

With  the  noblest  of  the  dead. 
Slow,  for  it  presses  heavily ; 

It  is  a  man  ye  bear  I 
Slow,  for  our  thoughts  dwell  wearily 

On  the  noble  sleeper  there. 

5.  Tread  lightly,  comrades,  ye  have  laid 

His  dark  locks  on  his  brow ; 
Like  life,  save  deeper  light  and  shade. 

We'll  not  disturb  them  now. 
Tread  lightly,  for  'tis  beautiful, 

That  blue-veined  eyehd's  sleep, 
Hiding  the  eye  death  left  so  dull, 

Its  slumber  we  will  keep. 

6.  Rest  now,  his  journeying  is  done, 

Your  feet  are  on  his  sod ; 
Death's  chain  is  on  your  champion, 

He  waiteth  here  his  God. 
Ay,  turn  and  weep,  'tis  manKnesa 

To  be  heart-broken  here, 
For  the  grave  of  earth's  best  nobleness 

Is  watered  by  the  tear. 


PATHETIC  STYLE.  217 

The  Last  Footfall. 

Anonymous. 

There  is  often  sadness  in  the  tone, 

And  a  moisture  in  the  eye, 
And  a  trembUng  sorrow  in  the  voice, 

When  we  bid  a  last  good-by. 
But  sadder  far  than  this,  I  ween, 

0  sadder  far  than  all  1 
Is  the  heart-throb  with  which  we  strain 

To  catch  the  last  footfall. 


2.  The  last  press  of  a  loving  hand 

Will  cause  a  thrill  of  pain 
When  we  think,  "  0  should  it  prove  that  we 

Shall  never  meet  again." 
And  as  lingeringly  the  hands  unclasp, 

The  hot,  quick  drops  will  fall ; 
But  bitterer  are  the  tears  we  shed, 

When  we  hear  the  last  footfalL 


3.  We  never  felt  how  dear  to  us 

Was  the  sound  we  loved  full  well. 
We  never  knew  how  musical, 

Till  its  last  echo  fell : 
And  till  we  heard  it  pass  away 

Far,  far  beyond  recall. 
We  never  thought  what  grief  'twould  be 

To  hear  the  last  footfall  1 


4.  And  years  and  days  that  long  are  pass^ed, 

And  the  scenes  that  seemed  forgot, 
Rush  through  the  mind  like  meteor-light 

As  we  linger  on  the  spot ; 
And  little  things  that  were  as  nought. 

But  now  will  be  our  all, 
Come  to  us  like  an  echo  low 

Of  the  last,  the  last  footfalL 


218  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Annabel  Lee. 

Edgar  Allan  Poe. 

1.  It  was  many,  full  many  a  year  ago, 

In  a  kingdom  by  tlie  sea, 
That  a  maiden  lived,  whom  you  may  know 

By  the  name  of  Annabel  Lee ; 
And  this  maiden  lived  with  no  other  tliO'.'^tt 

Than  to  love  and  be  loved  by  me. 

2.  I  was  a  child,  and  she  was  a  child. 

In  this  l^ingdom  by  the  sea ; 
But  we  loved  with  a  love  that  was  more  than  love, 

I  and  my  Annabel  Lee  : 
With  a  love  the  winged  seraphs  of  heaven 

Coveted  her  and  me. 

3.  And  this  was  the  reason  that  long  ago, 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  sea, 
A  wind  blew  out  of  a  cloud,  chilling 

My  beautiful  Annabel  Lee : 
So  that  her  highborn  kinsman  came 

And  bore  her  away  from  me, 
To  shut  her  up  in  a  sepulcher. 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  sea. 

4.  The  angels  not  half  so  happy  in  heaven, 

"Went  envying  her  and  me ; 
Yes,  that  was  the  reason,  as  all  men  know, 

In  this  kingdom  by  the  sea, 
That  the  wind  came  out  of  the  cloud  by  night, 

Chilling  and  killing  my  Annabel  Lee. 

5.  But  our  love  was  stronger  by  far  than  the  lov^ 

Of  those  who  were  older  than  we — 

Of  many  far  wiser  than  we ; 
And  neither  the  angels  above  in  heaven, 

Nor  the  demons  down  under  the  sea, 
Can  ever  dissever  my  soul  from  the  soul 

Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee. 

6.  For  the  moon  never  beams  without  bringing  me  dreams 

Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee  : 
And  the  stars  never  rise  but  I  feel  the  bright  eyes 
Of  the  beautiful  Annabel  Lee ; 


PATHETIC   STYLE.  219 

And  so  all  the  night  tide  I  lie  down  by  the  side 
Of  my  darling,  my  darling,  my  life  and  my  bride, 

In  the  sepulcher  there  by  the  sea, 

Iii  her  tomb  by  the  sounding  sea. 


The  Bridge  op  Sighs. 

Thomas  Hood. 

.  1    One  more  unfortunate, 
Weary  of  breath, 
Rashly  importunate. 
Gone  to  her  death ! 

2.  Take  her  up  tenderly, 

Lift  her  with  care  ; 

Fashioned  so  slenderly, 

Young,  and  so  fair. 

3.  Look  at  her  garments 
Chnging  like  cerements ; 

Whilst  the  wave  constantly 
Drips  from  her  clothing. 

Take  her  up  instantly, 
Loving,  not  loathing. 

4.  Touch  her  not  scornfully; 
Think  of  her  mournfully. 
Gently  and  humanly. 

Not  of  the  stains  of  he' ; 
All  that  remains  of  her 
Now  is  pure  womanly. 

6.  Make  no  deep  scrutiny 
Into  her  mutiny 

Rash  and  undutiful: 
Past  all  dishonor. 
Death  has  left  oh  her 

Only  the  beautiful. 

5.  Still,  for  all  slips  of  hers, 

One  of  Eve's  fjimily ; 
Wipe  those  poor  lips  of  hers, 
Oozing  so  clammily. 


220  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTIONT. 

7.  Loop  up  her  tresses, 

Escaped  from  the  comb, 
Her  fair  aiihurn  tresses ; 
Whilst  wonderment  guesses 

"Where  was  her  home  ? 

8.  Who  was  her  father? 

Who  was  her  mother  ? 
Had  she  a  sister  ? 

Had  she  a  brother  ? 
Or  was  there  a  dearer  one    . 
Still,  and  a  nearer  one 

Yet,  than  all  others  ? 

9.  Alas !  for  the  rarity 
Of  Christian  charity 

Under  the  sun  I 
0  it  was  pitiful  1 
Near  a  whole  city  full, 

Home  she  had  none. 

10.  Sisterly,  brotherly, 
Fatherly,  motherly, 

Feehngs  had  changed ; 
Love,  by  harsh  evidence, 
Thrown  from  its  eminence; 
Even  God's  providence 

Seeming  estranged. 

11.  Where  the  lamps  quiver 
So  far  in  the  river, 

With  many  a  light 
From  window  and  casement, 
From  garret  to  basement, 
She  stood  with  amazement. 

Houseless  by  night. 

12.  The  bleak  wind  of  March 

Made  her  tremble  and  shiv«tf ; 
But  not  the  dark  arch, 

Or  the  black  flowing  river: 
Mad  from  life's  history, 
Glad  to  death's  mystery, 

Swift  to  be  hurled — 
Anywhere,  anywhere 

Out  of  the  world  I 


PATHETIC  STYLE.  221 

13.  In  she  plunged  boldly, 
No  matter  how  coldly 

The  rough  river  ran ; 
Over  the  brmk  of  it, 
Picture  it,  think  of  it. 

Dissolute  man  1 

>|c  *  :i:  * 

14.  Take  her  up  tenderly, 

Lift  her  with  care ;  , 

Fashioned  so  slenderly, 
Young,  and  so  fair. 

16.  Ere  her  limbs  frigidly. 
Stiffen  too  rigidly, 

Decently,  kindly. 
Smooth  and  compose  them. 
And  her  eyes,  close  them, 

Staring  so  blindly ; 
Dieadfully  staring 

Through  muddy  impurity, 
As  when  with  the  daring, 
Last  look  of  despairing 

Eixed  on  futurity. 

16.  Perishing  gloomily, 
Spurred  by  contumely, 
Burning  insanity 

Into  the  rest ; 
Cross  her  hands  humbly, 
As  if  praying  dumbly. 

Over  her  breast. 

17.  Owning  her  weakness. 

Her  ill  behavior, 
And  leaving,  with  meekness, 
Her  sins  to  her  Saviour. 


The  Grave  of  the  Beloved. 

Washington  Irving. 
I.  The  sorrov/  for  the  dead  is  the  only  sorrow  from  which  we 
refuse  to  be  divorced.     Every  other  wound  we  seek  to  heal,  every 
other  afiliction  to  forget,  but  this  wound  we  consider  our  duty  to  keep 


222  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

open ;  this  affliction  we  cherish  and  brood  over  in  solitude.  Where 
is  the  mother  that  would  willingly  forget  the  infant  that  perished  like 
a  blossom  from  her  arms,  though  every  recoUoction  is  a  pang? 
Where  is  the  child  that  would  willingly  forget  the  most  tender  of 
parents,  though  to  remember  be  but  to  lament  ?  Who,  even  in  the 
hour  of  agony,  would  forget  the  friend  over  whom  he  mourns  ?  Who, 
even  when  the  tomb  is  closing  upon  the  remains  of  her  he  most  loved, 
and  he  feels  his  heart,  as  it  were,  crushed  in  the  closing  of  its  portal, 
would  accept  consolation  that  was  to  be  bought  by  forgetfulness  ? 
No,  the  love  which  survives  the  tomb  is  one  of  the  noblest  attributes 
of  the  soul.  If  it  has  its  woes  it  has  likewise  its  delights,  and  when 
the  overwhelming  burst  of  grief  is  calmed  into  the  gentle  tear  of  rec- 
ollection, when  the  sudden  anguish  and  the  convulsive  agony  over 
the  present  ruins  of  all  that  we  most  loved  is  softened  away  into 
pensive  meditation  on  all  that  it  was  in  the  days  of  its  loveliness, 
who  would  root  out  such  a  sorrow  from  the  heart  ?  Though  it  may 
sometimes  throw  a  passing  cloud  even  over  the  bright  hour  of  gayety, 
or  spread  a  deeper  sadness  over  the  hour  of  gloom,  yet  who  would 
exchange  it  even  for  the  song  of  pleasure  or  the  burst  of  revelry  ? 
No,  there  is  a  voice  from  the  tomb  sweeter  than  song ;  there  is  a 
recollection  of  the  dead  to  which  we  turn  even  from  the  charms  of 
the  living.  0  the  grave  1  the  grave !  It  buries  every  error,  covers 
every  defect,  extinguishes  every  resentment.  From  its  peaceful  bosom 
spring  none  but  fond  regrets  and  tender  recollections.  Who  can  look 
down"upon  the  grave  even  of  an  enemy  and  not  feel  a  compunctious 
throb  that  even  he  should  have  warred  with  the  poor  handful  of  earth 
that  lies  moldering  before  him  1 

2.  The  grave  of  those  we  loved — what  a  place  for  meditation! 
There  it  is  that  we  call  up  in  long  review  the  whole  history  of  virtue 
and  gentleness,  and  the  thousand  endearments  lavishexi  upon  us 
almost  unheeded  in  the  daily  intercourse  of  intimacy ;  there  it  is  that 
we  dwell  upon  the  tenderness,  the  solemn,  awful  tenderness  of  the 
parting  scene ;  the  bed  of  death  with  all  its  stifled  griefs ;  its  noise- 
less attendants;  its  mute,  watchful  assiduities;  the  last  testimonies 
of  expiring  love ;  the  feeble,  faltering,  thrilling  (0  how  thriliiug  1) 
pressure  of  the  hand ;  the  last  fond  look  of  the  glazing  eye  turning 
upon  us  even  from  the  threshold  of  existence;  the  faint,  faltering 
accents  s'truggling  in  death  to  give  one  more  assurance  of  affection! 
Ay,  go  to  the  grave  of  buried  love  and  meditate  I  There  settle  the  ic- 
count  with  thy  conscience  for  every  past  benefit  uniequited,  every 
past  endearment  unregarded  of  that  being  who  can  nev^r  never 
never  return  to  be  soothed  by  thy  contrition  1 


PATHETIC   STYLE.  223 

3.  If  tliou  art  a  child,  and  hast  ever  added  a  sorrow  to  the  soul,  or 
a  furrow  to  the  silvered  brow  of  an  affectionate  parent ;  if  thou  art  a 
husband,  and  hast  ever  caused  the  fond  bosom  that  ventured  its 
whole  happiness  in  thy  arms  to  doubt  one  moment  of  thy  kindness  or 
thy  truth ;  if  thou  art  a  friend,  and  hast  ever  wronged  in  thought, 
word,  or  deed,  the  spirit  that  generously  confided  in  thee ;  if  thou  art 
a  lover,  and  hast  ever  given  one  unmerited  pang  to  that  true  heart 
that  now  lies  cold  and  still  beneath  thy  feet ;  then  be  sure  that  every 
unkind  look,  every  ungracious  word,  every  ungentle  action,  will  come 
thronging  back  upon  thy  memory  and  knocking  dolefully  at  thy  soul ; 
then  be  sure  that  thou  wilt  lie  down  sorrowing  and  repentant  on  the 
grave,  and  utter  the  unheard  groan  and  pour  the  unavailing  tear ; 
more  deep,  more  bitter,  because  unheard  and  unavailing. 

4.  Then  weave  thy  chaplet  of  flowers  and  strew  the  beauties  of 
nature  about  the  grave ;  console  thy  broken  spirit  if  thou  canst  with 
these  tender  yet  futile  tributes  of  regret,  but  take  warning  by  the 
bitterness  of  this  thy  contrite  affliction  over  the  dead,  and  be  more 
faithful  and  affectionate  in  the  discharge  of  thy  duties  to  the  living. 


224  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTTOK. 


CHAPTER    III. 

SERIOUS  STYLE. 

The  Serious  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
that  form  of  thought  which,  in  a  quiet  and  tranquil 
manner,  is  designed  to  lead  out  the  mind  in  a  solemn 
strain. 

Nearer  Home. 

PJiebe  Gary, 

1.  One  sweetly  solemn  thought 

Comes  to  me  o'er  and  o'er ; 
I'm  nearer  my  home  to-day 
Than  I  ever  have  been  before. 

2.  Nearer  my  Father's  house, 

"Where  the  many  mansions  be ; 
Nearer  the  great  white  throne, 
Nearer  the  crystal  sea ; 

3.  Nearer  the  bound  of  life, 

Where  we  lay  our  burdens  down ; 
Nearer  leaving  the  cross. 
Nearer  gaining  the  crown. 

4.  But  the  waves  of  that  silent  sea 

KoU  dark  before  my  sight. 

That  brightly  the  other  side 

Break  on  a  shore  of  light, 

6.  0,  if  my  mortal  feet 

Have  almost  gained  the  brink, 
If  it  be  I  am  nearer  home 
Even  to-day  than  I  think, 

6.  Father,  perfect  my  trust, 
Let  my  spirit  feel  in  death 
That  her  feet  are  firmly  set 
On  the  Rock  of  a  living  faith. 


SERIOUS  STYLE.  225 

The  Heavenly  Canaan. 
Warn. 

1.  There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight, 

Where  saints  immortal  reign ; 
Eternal  day  excludes  the  night, 
And  pleasures  banish  pain. 

2.  There  everlasting  spring  abides, 

And  never-fading  flowers ; 
Death,  like  a  narrow  sea,  divides 
This  heavenly  land  from  ours. 

3.  Sweet  fields,  beyond  the  swellmg  flood, 

Stand  dressed  in  living  green : 

So  to  the  Jews  fair  Canaan  stood, 

"While  Jordan  rolled  between. 

4.  But  timorous  mortals  start  and  shrink, 

To  cross  this  narrow  sea ; 
And  linger,  trembling,  on  the  brink. 
And  fear  to  launch  away. 

6.  0  !  could  we  make  our  doubts  remove. 
Those  gloomy  doubts  that  rise, 
And  see  the  Canaan  that  we  love 
With  unbeclouded  eyes, 

6.  Could  we  but  climb  where  Moses  stood 
And  view  the  landscape  o'er. 
Not  Jordan's  stream,  nor  death's  cold  flood, 
Should  fright  us  from  the  shore. 


In  the   Other  World. 

M.  Beecher  Stowe. 
It  lies  around  us  like  a  cloud, 

A  world  we  do  not  see ; 
Yet  the  sweet  closing  of  an  eye 

May  bring  us  there  to  be. 

Its  gentle  breezes  fan  our  cheek ; 

Amid  our  worldly  cares 
Its  gentle  voices  whisper  love, 

And  mingle  with  our  prayers, 
16 


226  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTIOIT. 

3.  Sweet  hearts  around  us  throb  and  beat, 

Sweet  helpmg  hands  are  stirred, 
And  palpitates  the  vail  between 
"With  breathings  almost  heard. 

4.  The  silence — awful,  sweet,  and  calm — 

They  have  no  power  to  break ; 
For  mortal  words  are  not  for  them 
To  utter  or  partake. 

5.  So  thin,  so  soft,  so  sweet  they  glide, 

So  near  to  press  they  seem, 

They  seem  to  lull  us  to  our  rest, 

\.nd  melt  into  our  dream. 


6.  And  in  the  hush  of  rest  they  bring, 
'Tis  easy  now  to  see 
How  lovely,  and  how  sweet  a  pass 
The  hour  of  death  may  be. 

*i.  To  close  the  eye,  and  close  the  ear 
Wrapped  in  a  trance  of  bliss, 
And  gently  dream  in  loving  arms — 
To  swoon  to  that — from  this. 

8.  Scarce  knowing  if  we  wake  or  sleep. 

Scarce  asking  where  we  are, 
To  feel  all  evil  sink  away, 
All  sorrow  and  all  care. 

9.  Sweet  souls  around  us  I  watch  us  still, 

Press  nearer  to  our  side ;  ' 
Into  our  thoughts,  into  our  prayers. 
With  gentle  helpings  glide. 

10.  Let  death  between  us  be  as  naught, 
A  dried  and  vanished  stream^ 
Your  joy  be  the  reality, 
Our  suffering  life  the  dream. 


SERIOUS  STYLE.  227 

Jf  We  Knew. 

Anonymcnis. 

1.  If  we  knew  the  woe  and  heartache 

Waiting  for  us  down  the  road, 
If  our  lips  could  taste  the  wormwood, 

If  our  backs  could  feel  the  load ; 
Would  we  waste  the  day  in  wishing 

For  a  time  that  ne'er  can  be  ? 
Would  we  wait  with  such  impatience 

For  our  ships  to  come  from  sea  ? 

2.  If  we  knew  the  baby  fingers, 

Pressed  against  the  window  pane, 
Would  be  cold  and  stiff  to-morrow, 

Never  trouble  us  again; 
Would  the  bright  eyes  of  our  darling 

Catch  the  frown  upon  our  brow? 
Would  the  print  of  rosy  fingers 

Yex  us  then  as  they  do  now  ? 

3.  Ah,  these  little  ice-cold  fingers  I 

How  they  point  our  memories  back 
To  the  hasty  words  and  actions 

Strewn  along  our  backward  track  1 
How  these  little  hands  remind  us, 

As  in  snowy  grace  they  lie, 
Not  to  scatter  thorns,  but  roses, 

For  our  reaping  by  and  by. 

4.  Strange  we  never  prize  the  music 

Till  the  sweet-voiced  bird  has  flown ; 
Strange  that  we  should  slight  the  violets 

Till  the  lovely  flowers  are  gone ; 
Strange  that  summer  skies  and  sunshine 

Never  seem  one-half  so  fair 
As  when  winter's  snowy  pinions 

Shake  their  white  down  in  the  air. 

5    Lips  from  which  the  seal  of  silence 

None  but  God  can  roll  away, 

Never  blossomed  in  such  beauty 

As  adorns  the  mouth  to-day ; 


228  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

And  sweet  words  that  freight  our  memory 
"With  their  beautiful  perflime, 

Come  to  us  in  sweeter  accents 
Through  the  portals  ol  the  tomb. 

6    Let  us  gather  up  the  sunbeams, 

Lying  all  around  our  path ; 
Let  us  keep  the  wheat  and  roses, 

Casting  out  the  thorns  and  chaff; 
Let  us  find  our  sweetest  comfort 

In  the  blessings  of  to-day ; 
With  the  patient  hand  removing 

All  the  briers  from  our  way. 


Forty  Years  Ago. 

1.  I've  wandered  to  the  village,  Tom, 

I've  sat  beneath  the  tree. 
Upon  the  school-house  play-ground, 

That  sheltered  you  and  me ; 
But  none  were  left  to  greet  me,  Tom, 

And  few  were  left  to  know. 
Who  played  with  us  upon  that  greon 

Jnst  forty  years  ago. 

2.  The  grass  was  just  as  green,  Tom, 

Barefooted  boys  at  play 
Were  sporting,  just  as  we  did  then, 

With  spirits  just  as  gay. 
But  the  master  sleeps  upon  the  hill, 

Which,  coated  o'er  with  snow, 
Afiforded  us  a  sliding-place 

Some  forty  years  ago. 

3.  The  old  school-house  is  altered  some, 

The  benches  are  replaced 
By  new  ones,  very  like  the  same 

Our  jack-knives  had  defaced ; 
But  the  same  old  bricks  are  in  the  wa/I, 

And  the  bell  swings  to  and  fro, 
Its  music's  just  the  same,  dear  Tom, 

'Twas  forty  years  ago. 


SERIOUS  STYLE. 


229 


4   The  boys  were  playing  some  old  game 

"Beneath  that  same  old  tree ; 
T  do  forget  the  name  just  now — 

You've  played  the  same  with  me 
On  that  same  spot ;  'twas  played  with  knives, 

By  throwing  so  and  so ; 
The  loser  had  a  task  to  do 

There  forty  years  ago. 

5.  The  river's  running  just  as  still ; 

The  willows  on  its  side 
Are  larger  than  they  were,  Tom ; 

The  stream  appears  less  wide ; 
But  the  grape-vine  swing  is  missed  now, 

"Where  once  we  played  the  beau, 
And  swung  our  sweethearts — pretty  girls — 

Just  forty  years  ago. 

6.  The  spring  that  bubbled  'neath  the  hill. 

Close  by  the  spreading  beech, 
Is  very  low ;  'twas  once  so  high 

That  we  could  scarcely  reach ; 
And  kneeling  down  to  take  a  drink, 

Dear  Tom,  I  started  so. 
To  think  how  very  much  I've  changec 

Since  forty  years  ago. 

1.  Near  by  that  spring,  upon  an  elm. 

You  know  I  cut  your  name, 
Your  sweetheart's  just  beneath  it,  Tom, 

4.nd  you  did  mine  the  same. 
Some  heartless  wretch  has  peeled  the  bark; 

'Twas  dying  sure,  but  slow, 
Just  as  she  died  whose  name  you  cut 

There  forty  years  ago. 


8.  My  lids  have  long  been  dry,  Tom, 
But  tears  came  in  my  eyes  ; 
I  thought  of  her  I  loved  so  well, 
Those  early  broken  ties. 


230  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

I  visited  the  old  clnirch-yard, 
And  took  some  tlowers  to  strow 

Upon  the  graves  of  those  we  loved 
Just  forty  years  ago. 

9    Some  are  in  the  chiirch-yard  laid, 
Some  sleep  beneath  the  sea ; 
But  none  are  left  of  our  old  class 

Excepting  you  and  me. 
And  when  our  time  shall  come,  Tom, 
And  we  are  called  to  go, 
>     I  hope  we'll  meet  with  those  we  loved 
Some  forty  years  ago. 


The  Mountains  op  Life. 

J.  G.  Clark. 

1    There's  a  land  far  away,  'mid  the  stars,  we  are  told, 
"Where  they  know  not  the  sorrows  of  time ; 

Where  the  pure  waters  wander  through  valleys  of  gold, 
And  hfe  is  a  treasure  sublime : 

'Tis  the  land  of  our  God,  'tis  the  home  of  the  soul. 

Where  the  ages  of  splendor  eternally  roll, 

Where  the  way-weary  traveler  reaches  his  goal. 
On  the  ever-green  Mountains  of  Life. 

2.  Our  gaze  cannot  soar  to  that  beautiful  land. 

But  our  visions  have  told  of  its  bliss. 
And  our  souls  by  the  gale  of  its  gardens  are  fanned 

When  we  faint  in  the  desert  of  this ; 
And  we  sometimes  have  longed  for  its  holy  repose, 
When  our  spirits  were  torn  with  temptations  and  woes, 
And  we've  drank  from  the  tide  of  the  river  that  flows 

From  the  ever-green  Mountains  of  Life. 

3    0  the  stars  never  tread  the  blue  heavens  at  night 
But  we  think  where  the  ransomed  have  trod. 
And  the  day  never  smiles  from  his  palace  of  light 

But  we  feel  the  bright  smile  of  our  God. 
We  are  traveling  homeward  through  changes  and  gloom, 
To  a  kingdom  where  pleasures  unceaFiingly  bloom. 
And  our  guide  is  the  glory  that  shines  through  the  tomb, 
From  the  ever-green  Mountains  of  Life. 


SERIOUS  STYLE.  231 

The  Isle  of  Long  Ago. 

B,  F,  Taylor. 

1.  0  a  wonderful  stream  is  the  river  Time, 

As  it  runs  through  the  realm  of  tears, 
"With  a  faultless  rhythm  and  a  musical  rhyme, 
And  a  boimdless  sweep  and  a  surge  subhme, 

As  it  blends  with  the  Ocean  of  Years. 

2.  How  the  winters  ara  drifting,  like  flakes  of  snow, 

And  the  summers  like  buds  between. 
And  the  year  in  the  sheaf,  so  they  come  and  they  go, 
On  the  river's  breast,  with  its  ebb  and  flow. 

As  it  glides  in  the  shadow  and  sheen. 

3.  There's  a  magical  isle  up  the  river  Time, 

Where  the  softest  of  airs  are  playing ; 
There's  a  cloudless  sky  and  a  tropical  chme. 
And  a  song  as  sweet  as  a  vesper  chime, 

And  the  Junes  with  the  roses  are  straying. 

4.  And  the  name  of  that  Isle  is  the  Long  Ago, 

And  we  bury  our  treasures  there  ; 
There  are  brows  of  beauty  and  bosoms  of  snow; 
There  are  heaps  of  dust — but  we  loved  them  sol 

There  are  trinkets  and  tresses  of  hair ; 

6.  There  are  fragments  of  song  that  nobody  sings, 
,  And  a  part  of  an  infant's  prayer ; 
There's  a  lute  unswept,  and  a  harp  without  strings  j 
There  are  broken  vows  and  pieces  of  rings, 
And  the  garments  she  used  to  wear. 

6.  There  are  hands  that  are  waved  when  the  fairy  shore 

By  the  mirage  is  lifted  in  air, 
And  we  sometimes  hear  through  the  turbulent  roar 
Sweet  voices  we  heard  in  the  days  gone  before, 

When  the  wind  down  the  river  is  fair. 

*?.  0  remembered  for  aye,  be  the  blessed  Isle, 
All  the  day  of  our  life  until  night ; 
When  the  evening  comes  with  its  beautiful  smile, 
And  our  eyes  are  closing  to  slumber  awhile, 
Mav  that  ''Greenwood"  of  Soul  be  in  sight! 


232  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

God  the  Teue  Source  of  Consolation, 

Thomas  Moore, 

1.  0  Thou  who  driest  the  mourner's  tear, 

How  dark  this  world  would  be, 
If,  when  deceived  and  wounded  here, 
We  could  not  fly  to  thee  1 

2.  The  friends  who  in  our  sunshine  live 

"When  winter  comes  are  flown, 

And  he  who  has  but  tears  to  give 

Must  weep  those  tears  alone. 

3.  But  Thou  wilt  heal  the  broken  heart, 

Which,  like  the  plants  that  throw 
Their  fragrance  from  the  wounded  part 
Breathes  sweetness  out  of  woe, 

4.  When  joy  no  longer  soothes  or  cheers, 

And  e'en  the  hope  that  threw 

A  moment's  sparkle  o'er  our  tears, 

Is  dimmed  and  vanished  too.    • 

6.  0  who  could  bear  life's  stormy  doom  I 
Did  not  thy  wing  of  love 
Come  brightly  wafting  through  the  gloom 
Our  peace-branch  from  above ! 

6.  Then  sorrow  touched  by  thee  grows  bright 
With  more  than  rapture's  ray. 
As  darkness  shows  us  worlds  of  light 
We  never  saw  by  day. 


Gratitude. 

Addison, 


1.  When  all  thy  mercies,  0  laiy  God, 
My  rising  soul  surveys. 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 
In  wonder,  love  and  praise. 


SERIOUS  STYLE.  233 

2.  Unnumbered  comforts  to  my  soul 

Thy  tender  care  bestowed, 
Before  my  infant  heart  conceived 
From  whom  those  comforts  flowed. 

3.  "When  in  the  slippery  paths  of  youth 

"With  heedless  steps  I  ran, 
Thine  arm,  unseen,  conveyed  me  safe, 
And  led  me  up  to  man. 

4.  Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 

My  daily  thanks  employ ; 
Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  heart 
That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy. 

5.  Through  every  period  of  my  life, 

Thy  goodness  I'll  pursue; 
And  after  death,  in  distant  worlds. 
The  glorious  theme  renew. 

6.  Through  all  eternity,  to  the© 

A  joyful  song  I'll  raise : 

But  0  I  eternity's  too  short 

To  utter  all  thy  praise  I 


Over  the  River. 

Miss  Priest. 


Over  the  river  they  beckon  to  me ; 

Loved  ones,  who  have  passed  to  the  further  side 
The  gleam  of  their  snowy  robes  I  see — 

But  their  voices  are  lost  in  the  dashing  tide. 
There  was  one  with  ringlets  of  sunny  gold, 

And  eyes  the  reflection  of  heaven's  own  blue ; 
He  passed  in  the  twilight  gray  and  cold, 

And  the  pale  mist  hid  him  from  mortal  view. 
"We  saw  not  the  angels  who  met  him  there. 

The  gates  of  the  city  we  could  not  see — 
Over  the  river,  over  the  river. 

My  brother  stands  waiting  to  welcome  me. 


234  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

2.  Over  the  river  the  boatman  pale 

Carried  another,  our  household  pet ; 
Her  brown  curls  waved  in  the  gentle  gale, 

Darling  Minnie  I  I  see  her  yet. 
She  crossed  on  her  bosom  her  dimpled  hands, 

And  fearlessly  entered  the  phantom  bark; 
We  felt  it  glide  from  the  silver  sands, 

And  all  our  sunshine  grew  strangely  dark. 
We  know  she  is  safe  on  the  further  side, 

Where  all  the  angels  and  ransomed  be — 
Over  the  river,  the  mystic  river, 

Our  household  pet  is  waiting  for  me. 

3.  For  none  return  from  those  quiet  shores 

Who  pass  with  the  boatman  cold  and  pale; 
We  hear  the  dip  of  their  golden  oars. 

We  catch  a  glimpse  of  their  snowy  sail ; 
And  lo  1  they  have  passed  from  our  yearning  heart, 

They  have  crossed  the  stream,  and  are  gone  for  aye- 
We  may  not  sunder  the  vail  apart, 

That  hides  from  our  vision  the  gates  of  day. 
We  only  know  that  their  barks  no  more 

Will  glide  with  us  o'er  life's  stormy  sea ; 
But  somewhere,  I  know,  on  that  unseen  shore, 

They  watch  and  beckon  and  wait  for  me. 

4.  And  I  sit  and  think,  when  the  sunset's  gold 

Is  flushing  river  and  hill  and  shore, 
I  shall  one  day  stand  by  the  water  cold 

And  list  to  the  sound  of  the  boatman's  oar. 
I  shall  catch  a  gleam  of  the  snowy  sail, 

I  shall  hear  the  boat  as  it  nears  the  strand, 
I  shall  pass  wi-tli  the  boatman  cold  and  pale 

To  the  better  shore  of  the  spirit-land. 
I  shall  know  the  loved  who  have  gone  before, 

And  joyfully  sweet  will  the  meeting  be — 
When  over  the  river,  the  peaceful  river, 

The  angel  of  Death  shall  carry  me. 


TRANQUIL  STYLE.  235 


CHAPTER    IV. 

TRANQUIL  STYLE. 

The  Tranquil  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
quiet,  calm  thought. 

Rain  ox  tpie  Roof. 

Coates  Kirmey, 

1.  When  the  humid  shadows  hover  over  all  the  starry  spheres, 
And  the  melancholy  darkness  gently  weeps  in  rainy  tears, 
What  a  joy  to  press  the  pillow  of  a  cottage  chamber  bed, 
And  to  listen  to  the  patter  of  ihe  soft  rain  overhead. 

2.  Every  tinkle  on  the  shingles  has  an  echo  in  the  heart, 
And  a  thousand  dreamy  fancies  into  busy  being  start ; 

And  a  thousand  recollections  weave  their  bright  hues  into  woof, 
As  I  listen  to  the  patter  of  the  soft  rain  on  the  roof. 

3.  Now  in  fancy  comes  my  mother,  as  she  used  to  years  agone, 
To  survey  the  infant  sleepers  ere  she  left  them  till  the  dawn. 

0  !   I  see  her  bending  o'er  me,  as  I  list  to  the  refrain 
Which  is  played  upon  the  shingles  by  the  patter  of  the  rain. 

4.  Then  my  httle  seraph  sister,  with  her  wings  and  waving  hair, 
And  her  bright-eyed  cherub  brother — a  serene,  angelic  pair — 
Glide  around  my  wakeful  pillow  with  their  praise  or  mild  reproof, 
As  I  listen  to  the  murmur  of  the  soft  rain  on  the  roof. 

5  And  another  comes  to  thrill  me  with  her  eyes'  delicious  blue, 

1  forget,  as  gazing  on  her,  that  her  heart  was  all  untrue ; 
1  remember  that  I  loved  her  with  a  rapture  kin  to  pain. 
While  my  heart's  quick  pulses  vibrate  to  the  patter  of  the  rain. 

6  There  is  naught  in  art's  bravuras  that  can  work  with  such  a  spell, 
In  the  spirit's  pure,  deep  fountains,  whence  the  holy  passions  well, 
As  that  melody  of  nature — tliat  subdued,  subduing  strain 
Which  is  played  upon  the  shingles  by  the  patter  of  the  rain  I 


236  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION". 

Night. 

How  beautiful  this  uight  1     The  balmiest  sigh, 

"Which  vernal  zephyrs  breathe  in  evening's  ear, 

"Were  discord  to  the  speaking  quietude 

That  wraps  this  moveless  scene.     Heaven's  ebon  vault, 

Studded  with  stars  unutterably  bright, 

Through  which  the  moon's  unclouded  grandeur  rolls, 

Seems  like  a  canopy  which  love  has  spread 

To  curtain  her  sleeping  world.     Ton  gentle  hills, 

Robed  in  a  garment  of  untrodden  snow ; 

Yon  darksome  rocks,  whence  icicles  depend — 

So  stainless,  that  their  white  and  glittering  spires 

Tinge  not  the  moon's  pure  beam ;  yon  castled  steep, 

Whose  banner  hangeth  o'er  the  time-worn  tower 

So  idly,  that  rapt  fancy  deemeth  it 

A  metaphor  of  peace ;  all  form  a  scene 

Where  musing  solitude  might  love  to  lift 

Her  soul  above  this  sphere  of  earthliness ; 

Where  silence,  undisturbed,  might  watch  alone, 

So  cold,  so  bright,  so  still. 


The   Light-House. 

Moore. 
The  scene  was  more  beautiful  far  to  my  eye 

Than  if  day  in  its  pride  had  arrayed  it : 
The  land-breeze  blew  mild,  and  the  azure-arched  sky 

Looked  pure  as  the  Spirit  that  made  it: 
The  murmur  rose  soft,  as  I  silently  gazed 

On  the  shadowy  waves'  playful  motion, 
From  the  dim  distant  hill,  till  the  light-house  fire  bkzed 

Like  a  star  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean. 

,  No  longer  the  joy  of  the  sailor-boy's  breast 

Was  heard  in  his  wildly-breathed  numbers ; 
The  sea-bird  had  flown  to  her  wave-girdled  nest, 

The  fisherman  sunk  to  his  slumbers  : 
One  moment  1  looked  from  the  hill's  gentle  slope, 

All  hushed  was  the  billows'  commotion, 
And  o'er  them  the  light-house  looked  lovely  as  hope, 

That  star  of  life's  tremulous  ocean. 


TRANQUIL  STYLE.  237 

3.  The  time  is  long  past,  and  tlie  scene  is  afar, 

Yet,  when  my  head  rests  on  its  pillow, 
"Will  memory  sometimes  rekindle  the  star 

That  blazed  on  the  breast  of  the  billow : 
In  life's  closing  hour,  when  the  trembling  soul  flies, 

And  death  stills  the  heart's  last  emotion, 
O  then  may  the  seraph  of  mercy  arise, 

Like  a  star  on  eternity's  ocean  I 


Musings. 

Amelia. 


1.  I  wandered  out  one  summer-night, 

'Twas  when  my  years  were  few. 
The  wind  was  singing  in  the  light. 

And  I  was  singing  too ; 
The  sunshine  lay  upon  the  hill, 

The  shad<3w  in  the  vale, 
And  here  and  there  a  leaping  rill 

Was  laughing  on  the  gale. 

2.  One  fleecy  cloud  upon  the  air 

"Was  all  that  met  my  eyes  ; 
It  floated  like  an  angel  there 

Between  me  and  the  skies ; 
I  clapped  my  hands  and  warbled  wild 

As  here  and  there  I  flew, 
For  I  was  but  a  careless  child, 

And  did  as  children  do. 

3.  The  waves  came  dancing  o'er  the  sea 

In  bright  and  glittering  bands, 
Like  little  children,  wild  with  glee. 

They  linked  their  dimpled  hands — 
They  linked  their  hands,  but  ere  I  caught 

Their  sprinkled  drops  of  dew. 
They  kissed  my  feet,  and,  quick  as  thought, 

Away  the  ripples  flew. 

4.  The  twihght  hours,  like  birds,  flew  by, 

As  lightly  and  as  free; 
Ten  thousand  stars  were  in  the  sky, 
Ten  thousand  on  the  sea  j 


238  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

For  every  wave  with  dimpled  face, 

That  leaped  upon  the  air, 
Had  caught  a  star  in  its  embrace, 

And  held  it  trembling  there. 

5.  The  young  moon,  too,  with  upturned  sides, 

Her  mirrored  beauty  gave, 
And,  as  a  bark  at  anchor  rides, 

She  rode  upon  the  wave ; 
The  sea  was  like  the  heaven  above, 

As  perfect  and  as  whole, 
Save  that  it  seemed  to  thrill  with  love 

As  thrills  th'  immortal  souL 

6.  The  leaves,  by  spirit -voices  stirred, 

Made  murmurs  on  the  air, 
Low  murmurs,  that  my  spirit  heard 

And  answered  with  a  prayer ; 
For  'twas  upon  that  dewy  sod. 

Beside  the  moaning  seas, 
I  learned  at  first  to  worship  God, 

And  sing  such  strains  as  these. 

7.  The  flowers,  aU  folded  to  their  dreams, 

Were  bowed  in  slumber  free. 
By  breezy  hills  and  murmuring  streams, 

Where'er  they  chanced  to  be ; 
No  guilty  tears  had  they  to  weep, 
•  No  sins  to  be  forgiven ; 

They  closed  their  leaves  and  went  to  sleep 

'Neath  the  blue  eye  of  heaven. 

8.  No  costly  robes  upon  them  shone. 

No  jewels  from  the  seas. 
Yet  Solomon  upon  his  throne, 

Was  ne'er  arrayed  like  these ; 
And  just  as  free  from  guilt  and  an 

Were  lovely  human  flowers, 
Ere  sorrow  set  her  bleeding  heart 

On  this  fair  world  of  ours. 

9.  I  heard  the  laughing  wind  behind 

A-playing  with  my  hair ; 
The  breezy  fingers  of  the  wind — 
How  cool  and  moist  they  were  f 


TRANQUIL    STTLE.  239 

I  heard  the  night-bird  warbling  o'er 

Its  soft  enchanting  sl,rain  ; 
I  never  heard  such  soundo  before, 

And  never  shall  again. 

10.  Then  wherefore  weave  such  strains  as  these, 

And  sing  them  day  by  day, 
When  every  bird  upon  the  breeze 

Can  sing  a  sweeter  lay  ? 
I'd  give  the  world  for  their  sweet  art. 

The  simple,  the  divine; 
I'd  give  the  world  to  melt  one  heart 

As  they  have  melted  mine. 


The  Rainbow. 

Amelia. 


1.  I  sometimes  have  thoughts  in  my  loneliest  hours, 
That  lie  on  my  heart  like  the  dew  on  the  flowers, 
Of  a  ramble  I  took  one  bright  afternoon, 

When  my  heart  was  as  light  as  a  blossom  in  June ; 
The  green  earth  was  moist  with  the  late  fallen  showers, 
The  breeze  fluttered  down  and  blew  open  the  flowers, 
While  a  single  white  cloud,  to  its  haven  of  rest, 
On  the  white  wing  of  peace,  floated  off  in  the  west. 

2.  As  I  threw  back  my  tresses  to  catch  the  cool  breeze, 
That  scattered  the  rain-drops  and  dimpled  the  seas, 
Far  up  the  blue  sky  a  fair  rainbow  unrolled 

Its  soft-tinted  pinions  of  purple  and  gold. 
'Twas  born  in  a  moment,  yet,  quick  as  its  birth. 
It  had  reached  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth. 
And,  fair  as  an  angel,  it  floated  as  free. 
With  a  wing  on  the  earth  and  a  wing  on  the  sea. 

8   How  calm  was  the  ocean !  how  gentle  its  swell  I 
Like  a  woman's  soft  bosom,  it  rose  and  it  fell, 
While  its  light  sparkling  waves,  stealing  laughmgly  o*er, 
When  they  saw  the  fair  rainbow,  knelt  down  on  the  shore. 
No  sweet  hymn  ascended,  no  murmur  of  prayer, 
Yet  I  felt  that  the  spirit  of  worship  was  there. 
And  bent  my  young  head  in  devotion  and  love, 
'Neath  the  form  of  the  angel  that  floated  above. 


240  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

4.  How  wide  was  the  sweep  of  its  beautiful  vings ! 
How  boundless  its  circle  1  how  radiant  its  rings 't 
If  I  looked  on  the  sky,  'twas  suspended  in  air ; 
If  I  looked  on  the  oceaii,  the  rainbow  was  there ; 
Thus  forming  a  girdle  as  brilliant  and  whole 
As  the  thoughts  of  the  rainbow  that  circled  my  so*aL 
Like  the  wing  of  the  Deity,  calmly  unfurled. 
It  bent  from  the  cloud  and  encircled  the  world. 

C.  There  are  moments,  I  think,  when  the  spirit  receives 
Whole  volumes  of  thought  on  its  unwritten  leaves, 
"When  the  folds  of  the  heart  in  a  moment  unclose, 
Like  the  innermost  leaves  from  the  heart  of  a  rose. 
And  thus,  when  the  rainbow  had  passed  from  the  sky, 
The  thoughts  it  awoke  were  too  deep  to  pass  by ; 
It  left  my  full  soul,  like  the  wing  of  a  dove. 
All  fluttering  with  pleasure,  and  fluttering  with  love. 

6.  I  know  that  each  moment  of  rapture  or  pain 
But  shortens  the  Unks  of  Mfe's  mystical  chain ; 
I  know  that  my  form,  like  that  bow  from  the  wave, 
Must  pass  from  the  earth  and  lie  cold  in  the  grave ; 
Yet  0 1  when  death's  shadows  my  bosom  encloud. 
When  I  shrink  at  the  thought  of  the  coffin  anl  shroud, 
May  Hope,  like  the  rainbow,  my  spirit  enfold 
In  her  beautiful  pinious  of  purple  and  gold. 


GRAVE  STYLE.  241 


C  H  A  P  T  E  R    V. 

GRAVE  STYLE. 

The  Grave  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of  solemn 
and  serious  thought  of  a  didactic  character.  Doctrinal 
and  practical  sermons  come  largely  under  this  style. 

The  Inspiration  of  the  Bible. 

Edward  WintJirop. 

1.  Such  is  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  Christianity  that  it  is  adapted 
to  the  wants  of  all,  and  it  provides  for  all,  not  only  by  its  precepts 
and  by  its  doctrines,  but  also  by  its  evidence. 

2.  The  poor  man  may  know  nothing  of  history,  or  science,  or  phi- 
losophy ;  he  may  have  read  scarcely  any  book  but  the  Bible ;  he  may 
be  totally  unable  to  vanquish  the  skeptic  in  the  arena  of  public  do- 
bate;  but  he  is,  nevertheless,  surrounded  by  a  panoply  which  the 
shafts  of  infidelity  can  never  pierce. 

3.  You  may  go  to  the  home  of  the  poor  cottager,  whose  heart  is 
deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  vital  Christianity ;  you  may  see  him 
gather  his  little  family  around  him.  He  expounds  to  them  the  whole- 
some doctrines  and  principles  of  the  Bible,  and  if  they  want  to  know 
the  evidence  upon  which  he  rests  his  faith  of  the  divine  origin  of  his 
religion,  he  can  tell  them  upon  reading  the  book  which  teaches  Chris- 
tianity he  finds  not  only  a  perfectly  true  description  of  his  own 
natural  character,  but  in  the  provisions  of  this  religion  a  perfect 
adaptation  to  all  his  needs. 

4.  It  is  a  religion  by  which  to  live,  a  religion  by  which  to  die ;  a 
religion  which  cheers  in  darkness,  relieves  in  perplexity,  supports  in 
adversity,  keeps  steadfast  in  prosperity,  and  guides  the  inquirer  to 
that  blessed  land  where  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  tl  e 
vreary  are  at  rest." 

6.  We  entreat  yov.  therefore,  to  give  the  Bible  a  welcome,  a  cordial 
reception ;  obey  its  precepts,  trust  its  promises,  and  rely  impheitly 
upon  *"hat  Divme  Redeemer  whose  religion  brings  glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,  and  on  earth,  peace  and  good  will  to  men. 

6.  Thus  will  you  fulfill  the  noble  end  of  your  existence,  and  the 
g^reat  God  of  the  universe  will  be  your  father  and  your  friend ;  and 
wlien  the  last  mighty  convulsion  shall  shake  the  earth  and  the  sea 

10 


212  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

and  the  sky  and  the  fragments  of  a  thousand  barks,  richly  freighted 
with  intellect  and  learning,  are  scattered  on  the  shores  of  error  and 
delusion,  your  vessel  shall  in  safety  outride  the  storm,  and  enter  in 
triumph  the  haven  of  eternal  rest. 


Goodness  of  God. 

1.  The  hght  of  nature,  the  works  of  creation,  the  general  consent  of 
nations,  in  harmony  with  divine  revelation,  attest  the  being,  the  perfec- 
tions and  the  providence  of  Grod.  Whatever  cause  we  have  to  lament 
the  frequent  inconsistency  of  human  conduct  with  this  belief,  yet  an 
avowed  atheist  is  a  monster  that  rarely  makes  his  appearance.  God's 
government  of  the  affairs  of  the  universe,  an  acknov/ledgment  of  his  act- 
ive, superintending  providence  over  that  portion  of  it  which  constitutes 
the  globe  we  inhabit  is  rejected,  at  least  theoretically,  by  very  few. 

2.  That  a  superior,  invisible  power  is  continually  employed  in  man- 
aging and  controlling  by  secret,  imperceptible,  irresistible  means  all 
the  transactions  of  the  world,  is  so  often  manifested  in  the  disappoint- 
ment as  well  as  in  the  success  of  our  plans,  that  blind  and  depraved 
must  our  minds  be  to  deny  what  every  day's  transactions  so  fully 
prove.  The  excellence  of  the  divine  character,  especially  in  the  exer- 
cise of  that  goodness  toward  his  creatures  which  is  seen  in  the  dis- 
pensation of  their  daily  benefits,  and  in  overruling  occurring  events, 
to  the  increase  of  their  happiness,  is  equally  obvious. 

3.  Do  we  desire  evidence  of  these  things  ?  "Who  is  without  them 
in  the  experience  of  his  own  life  ?  Who  has  not  reason  to  thank  Cod 
for  the  success  which  has  attended  his  exertions  in  the  world  ?  Wlio 
has  not  reason  to  thank  him  for  defeating  plans,  the  accomplishment 
of  v/hich  it  has  been  afterward  seen  would  have  resulted  in  injury  or 
ruin  ?  Who  has  not  cause  to  present  him  the  unaffected  homage  of  a 
grateful  heart  for  the  consequences  of  events  apparentlj^  the  most  un- 
propitious,  and  for  his  unquestionable  kindness  in  the  daily  supply 
of  needful  mercies  ? 


Access   TO    God. 

Jaraei  Hamilton. 
1.  However  early  m  the  morning  you  seek  the  gate  oi  access,  you 
And  it  alr(?ady  open ;  and  the  midnight  moment  when  you  find  yourself 
in  the  sudden  arms  of  death,  the  winged  prayer  can  bring  an  instant 
Saviour  near.  And  this  wherever  you  are.  It  needs  not  that  you  ascend 
some  special  Pisgah  or  Moriah.  It  needs  not  that  jow  should  enter 
some  awful  shrine,  or  pull  off  your  shoes  on  some  holy  ground. 


GRAVE   STYLE.  243 

2.  Could  a  memento  be  reared  on  every  spot  from  wliich  an  accept- 
Uble  praj^er  has  passed  away,  and  upon  which  a  prompt  answer  has 
come  down,  we  should  find  Jehovah-shammah,  "  the  Lord  has  been 
here,"  inscriljed  on  many  a  cottage  hearth  and  many  a  dungeon  floor. 
We  should  find  it  not  only  in  Jerusalem's  proud  temple,  and  David's 
cedar  galleries,  but  in  the  fisherman's  cottage  by  the  brink  of  Gennes- 
areth,  and  in  the  chamber  where  Pentecost  began. 

3.  Whether  it  be  the  field  where  Isaac  went  to  meditate,  or  ihe 
rocky  knoll  w^here  Jacob  lay  down  to  sleep,  or  the  brook  where  Israel 
wrestled,  or  the  den  where  Daniel  gazed  on  lions  and  the  lions  gazed 
on  him,  on  the  liill-side  where  the  Man  of  sorrows  prayed  all  night, 
we  should  still  discern  tlie  prints  of  the  ladder's  feet  let  down  from 
heaven — the  landing-place  of  mercies,  because  the  starthig-point  of 
prayer.     And  all  this  whatsoever  you  are. 

4.  It  needs  no  saints,  no  proficient  in  piety,  no  adept  in  eloquent 
language,  no  dignity  of  earthly  rank.  It  needs  but  a  blind  beggar,  a 
loathsome  lazar.  It  needs  but  a  penitent  publican  or  a  dying  thief. 
And  it  needs  no  sharp  ordeal,  no  costly  passport,  no  painful  expiation, 
to  bring  you  to  the  mercy-seat.  The  Saviour's  merit — the  name  of 
Jesus,  priceless  as  they  are,  cost  the  sinner  nothing.  Thej''  are  freely 
put  at  his  disposal,  and  instantly  and  constantly  he  may  make  use 
of  them.  This  access  to  God  in  every  place,  at  every  moment,  with- 
out any  price  or  personal  merit,  is  it  not  a  privilege  ? 


Infidelity  Tested. 
1.  We  might  ask  the  patrons  of  infidelity,  what  fury  impels  them 
to  attempt  the  subversion  of  Cliristianity  ?  Is  it  that  they  have  dis- 
covered a  better  system  ?  To  what  virtues  are  their  principles  favor- 
able ?  Or  is  there  one  which  Christians  have  not  carried  to  a  higher 
than  any  of  which  their  party  can  boast?  Have  they  discovered  a 
more  excellent  rule  of  life  or  a  better  hope  in  death,  than  that  which 
the  Scriptures  suggest?  Above  all,  what  are  the  pretensions  on 
which  they  rest  their  claims  to  be  the  guides  of  mankind,  or  which 
embolden  them  to  expect  we  should  trample  on  the  experience  of 
ages,  and  abandon  a  religion  which  has  been  attested  by  a  train  of 
miracles  and  prophecies  in  which  millions  of  our  forefathers  have 
found  a  refuge  in  every  trouble  and  consolation  in  the  hour  of  death; 
a  religion  which  has  been  adorned  with  the  highest  sanctity  of  char- 
acter and  splendor  of  talents,  which  enrolls  among  its  disciples  the 
names  of  Bacon,  Newton,  and  Locke,  the  glory  of  their  species,  and 
to  which  these  illustrious  men  were  proud  to  dedicate  the  last  and 
nest  fruits  of  their  immortal  genius. 


244  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

2.  If  the  question  at  issue  is  to  be  decided  by  argument,  nothing 
can  be  added  to  the  triumph  of  Christianity;  if  by  an  appeal  to 
authority,  what  have  our  adversaries  to  oppose  to  theso  great  names? 
Where  are  the  infidels  of  such  pure,  uncontaminated  morals,  un- 
shaken probity,  and  extended  benevolence,  that  we  should  be  in  no 
danger  of  b-nng  seduced  into  impiety  by  their  example  ?  Into  what 
obscure  recesses  of  misery,  into  what  dungeons  have  their  philan- 
thropists penetrated,  to  lighten  the  fetters  and  relieve  the  sorrows  of 
the  helpless  captive  ?  What  barbarous  tribes  have  their  apostles  vis« 
ited  ?  What  distant  climes  have  they  explored,  encompassed  with  cold, 
nakedness  and  want,  to  diffuse  principles  of  virtue  and  the  blessings 
of  civiUzation  ?  Or  will  they  choose  to  waive  their  pretensions  to  this 
extraordinary,  and  in  their  eyes  eccentric  species  of  benevolence,  and 
rest  their  character  on  their  political  exploits;  on  their  efforts  to  re- 
animate the  virtues  of  a  sinking  State,  to  restrain  licentiousness,  to 
calm  the  tumult  of  popular  fury;  and,  by  inculcating  the  spirit  of  jus- 
tice, moderation  and  pity  for  fallen  greatness,  to  mitigate  the  inevit- 
able horrors  of  revolution?  Our  adversaries  will,  at  least,  have  the 
discretion,  if  not  the  modesty,  to  recede  from  the  test. 

3.  More  than  all,  their  infatuated  eagerness,  their  parricidal  zeal  to 
extinguish  a  sense  of  Deity,  must  excite  astonishment  and  horror. 
Is  the  idea  of  an  almiglity  and  perfect  ruler  unfriendly  to  any  passion 
which  is  consistent  with  innocence,  or  an  obstruction  to  any  design 
which  is  not  shameful  to  avow  ? 

4.  Eternal  God  1  on  what  are  thy  enemies  intent  ?  What  are  those 
enterprises  of  guilt  and  horror,  that,  for  the  safety  of  their  perform- 
ers, require  to  be  enveloped  in  a  darkness  which  the  eye  of  Heaven 
must  not  pierce  ?  Miserable  men  1  proud  of  being  the  offspring  of 
chance;  in  love  .with  universal  disorder;  whose  happiness  is  in- 
volved in  the  belief  of  there  being  no  witness  to  their  designs,  and 
who  are  at  ease  only  because  they  suppose  themselves  inhabitants  of 
a  forsaken  and  fatherless  world  I 


Religion  the   Only   Basis   of   Society. 

W.  E.  CJianning. 
1.  Few  men  suspect,  perhaps  no  man  comprehends,  the  extent  of 
the  support  given  by  religion  to  every  virtue.  No  man,  perhaps,  is 
aware  liow  much  our  moral  and  social  sentiments  are  fed  from  this 
fountain  ;  how  powerless  conscience  would  become  without  the  belief 
of  a  God;  how  palsied  would  be  human  benevolence  weie  there  not 
the  sense  of  a  higher  benevolence  to  quicken  and  sustain  it ;  how 
suddenly  the  whole  social   fabric  would  quake,   and    witli  wliat  a 


GRAVE   STYLE.  245 

fearful  crash  it  would  sink  into  hopeless  ruin,  were  the  ideas  of  & 
Supreme  Being,  of  accountableness,  and  of  a  future  life,  to  be  utterly 
erased  from  ever}'-  mind. 

2.  And  let  men  tliorouglily  believe  that  they  are  the  work  and  sport 
of  chance ;  that  no  superior  intelligence  concerns  itself  with  human 
affairs  ;  that  all  their  improvements  perish  forever  at  death ;  that  the 
weak  have  no  guardian,  and  the  injured  no  avenger;  that  there  is  no 
recompense  for  sacrifices  to  uprightness  and  the  public  good ;  that  an 
oath  is  unheard  in  heaven  ;  that  secret  crimes  have  no  witness  but  the 
perpetrator ;  that  human  existence  has  no  purpose,  and  human  virtue 
no  unfailing  friend ;  that  this  brief  life  is  every  thing  to  us,  and  death 
is  total,  everlasting  extinction  ;  once  let  them  thoroughly  abandon  re- 
ligion, and  who  can  conceive  or  describe  the  extent  of  the  desolation 
which  would  follow  1 

3.  We  hope,  perhaps,  that  human  laws  and  natural  sympathy  would 
hold  society  together.  As  reasonably  might  we  believe,  that,  were 
the  sun  quenched  in  the  heavens,  our  torches  would  illuminate  and 
our  fires  quicken  and  fertilize  the  creation.  What  is  there  in  human 
nature  to  awaken  respect  and  tenderness  if  man  is  the  unprotected 
insect  of  a  day  ?     And  what  is  he  more,  if  atheism  be  true  ? 

4.  Erase  all  thought  and  fear  of  God  from  a  community,  and  self- 
ishness and  sensuality  would  absorb  the  whole  man.  Appetite, 
knowing  no  restraint,  and  suffering  having  no  solace  or  hope,  would 
trample  in  scorn  on  the  restraints  of  human  laws.  Virtue,  duty, 
principle,  would  be  mocked  and  spurned  as  unmeaning  sounds.  A 
sordid  self-interest  would  supplant  every  other  feeling,  and  man 
would  become,  in  fact,  what  the  theory  of  atheism  declares  him  to  be 
— •  a  companion  for  brutes. 


The  Promises  of  Religion  to  the  Young. 

Alison. 

1.  In  every  part  of  Scripture  it  is  remarkable  with  what  singular 
tenderness  the  season  of  youth  is  always  mentioned,  and  what  hopes 
are  oiBfered  to  the  devotion  of  the  young.  It  was  at  that  age  that  God 
appeared  unto  Moses  when  he  fed  his  flock  in  the  desert,  and  called 
him  to  the  command  of  his  own  people.  It  was  at  that  age  he  visited 
the  infant  Samuel,  while  he  ministered  in  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  "  in 
days  when  the  word  of  the  Lord  was  precious,  and  when  there  was 
no  open  vision."  It  was  at  that  age  that  his  Spirit  fell  upon  David, 
while  he  was  yet  the  youngest  of  his  father's  sons,  and  when  among 
the  mountains  of  Bethlehem  he  fed  his  father's  sheep. 

2.  It  was  at  that  age  also  that  they  brought  young  children  unto 


246  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Christ  that  he  shouM  touch  them,  aiid  his  disciples  rebuked  those  thai 
brouglit  them.  But  when  Jesus  saw  it  he  was  much  displeased,  and 
said  to  them,  "  SufTer  little  children,  and  forbid  them'  not,  to  come  unto 
me,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  If  these,  then,  are  the 
effects  and  promises  of  youth  and  piety,  rejoice,  0  young  man,  in  thy 
youth  I  rejoice  in  those  days  which  are  never  to  return,  when  religion 
comes  to  thee  in  all  its  charms,  and  when  the  God  of  nature  reveals 
himself  to  thy  soul,  like  the  mild  radiance  of  the  morning  sun  when 
he  rises  amid  the  blessings  of  a  grateful  world. 

3.  If  already  devotion  hath  taught  thee  her  secret  pleasures;  if, 
when  nature  meets  thee  in  all  its  magnificence  or  beauty,  thy  heart 
humble th  itself  in  adoration  before  the  hand  which  made  it,  and  re- 
joiceth  in  the  contemplation  of  the  wisdom  by  which  it  is  maintained ; 
if,  when  revelation  uhvails  her  mercies  and  the  Son  of  God  comea 
forth  to  give  peace  and  hope  to  fallen  man,  thine  eye  follows  with 
astonishment  the  glories  of  his  path  and  pours  at  last  over  his  cross 
those  pious  tears  which  it  is  a  dehght  to  shed ;  if  thy  soul  accom- 
panieth  him  in  his  triumph  over  the  grave,  and  entereth  on  the  wings 
of  faith  into  that  heaven  '*  where  he  sat  down  at  the  right  hand  of 
the  Majesty  on  High,"  and  seeth  the  "  society  of  angels  and  of  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,"  and  listeneth  to  the  "  everlasting 
song  which  is  sung  before  the  throne ;"  if  such  are  the  meditations  in 
which  thy  youthful  hours  are  passed,  renounce  not,  for  all  that  life 
can  offer  thee  in  exchange,  these  solitary  joys.  The  world  which  is 
before  thee — the  world  which  thine  imagination  paints  in  such  briglit* 
ness — has  no  pleasures  to  bestow  which  can  compare  with  these ; 
and  all  that  its  boasted  wisdom  can  produce  has  nothing  so  acceptable 
in  the  sight  of  heaven  as  this  pure  offering  of  thy  infant  soul. 

4.  In  these  days  "  the  Lord  himself  is  thy  shepherd,  and  thou  dost 
not  want.  Amid  the  green  pastures  and  by  the  still  waters"  of 
youth  he  now  makes  "thy  soul  to  repose."  But  the  years  draw 
nigh  when  life  shall  call  thee  to  its  trials ;  the  evil  days  are  on  the 
wing  when  "thou  shalt  say  thou  hast  no  pleasure  in  them  ;"  and  as 
thy  steps  advance,  "  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  opens,"  through 
which  thou  must  pass  at  last.  It  is  then  thou  shalt  know  what  it  is 
to  "  remember  thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth."  In  these  days 
of  trial  or  of  awe  "  his  Spirit  shall  be  with  thee,"  and  thou  shalt  fear 
no  ill ;  and  amid  every  evil  that  surrounds  thee  "  he  shall  restore  thy 
j5oul.  His  goodness  and  mercy  shall  follow  thee  all  the  days  of  thy 
life ;"  and  when  at  last  "  the  silver  cord  is  loosed,  thy  spirit  shall 
return  to  God  who  gave  it,  and  tliou  shalt  dwell  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  forever." 


DIDACTIC  STYLE.  247 


C  H  APTE  R    VI. 

DIDACTIC  STYLE. 

The  Didactic  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
those  forms  of  thought  which  afe  simply  designed  to 
instruct  either  in  the  form  of  narration,  description,  or 
scientific  and  literary  lectures. 

Introductions  to  speeches  and  orations  generally  re^ 
quire  the  Didactic  Style. 

Cheerfulness. 

1.  There  is  no  one  quality  that  so  much  attaches  man  to  his  fellow- 
man  as  cheerfulness.  Talents  may  excite  more  respect,  and  virtue 
more  esteem,  but  the  respQct  is  apt  to  be  distant  and  the  esteem  cold. 
It  is  far  otherwise  with  cheerfulness.  It  endears  a  man  to  the  hearty 
not  the  intellect  or  the  imagination.  There  is  a  kind  of  reciprocal 
diffusiveness  about  this  quality  that  recommends  its  possessor  by  the 
Tery  effect  it  produces.  There  is  a  mellow  radiance  in  the  light  it 
sheds  on  all  social  intercourse  which  perv»des  the  soul  to  a  depth 
that  the  blaze  of  intellect  can  never  reach 

2.  The  cheerful  man  is  a  double  blessing — a  blessing  to  himself  and 
to  the  world  around  him.  In  his  own  character  his  good  nature  is 
the  clear  blue  sky  of  his  own  heart,  on  which  every  star  of  talent 
shines  out  more  clearly.  To  others  he  carries  an  atmosphere  of  joy 
and  hope  and  encouragement  wherever  he  moves.  His  own  cheer- 
fulness becomes  infectious,  and  his  associates  lose  their  moroseness 
and  their  gloom  in  the  amber-colored  hght  of  the  benevolence  he  casts 
around  him. 

3.  It  is  true  that  cheerfulness  is  not  always  happiness.  The  face 
may  glow  in  smiles  while  the  heart  "  runs  in  coldness  and  darkness 
below,"  but  cheerfulness  is  the  best  external  indication  of  happiness 
that  we  have,  and  it  enjoj^s  this  advantage  over  almost  every  other 
e:ood  quality,  that  the  counterfeit  is  as  valuable  to  society  as  the 


248  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

reality.     It  answers  as  a  medium  of  public  circulation  fuUy  as  well  as 
the  tru3  coin. 

4.  A  man  is  worthy  of  all  praise,  whatever  may  be  his  private 
griefs,  who  does  not  intrude  them  on  the  happiness  of  his  friends,  but 
constantly  contributes  his  quota  of  cheerfulness  to  the  general  public 
enjoyment.  "  Every  heart  knows  its  own  bitterness,"  but  let  the 
possessor  of  that  heart  take  heed  that  he  does  not  distill  it  into  his 
neighbor's  cup,  and  thus  poison  his  felicity. 

5.  There  is  no  sight  more  commendable  and  more  agreeable  than  a 
man  whom  we  know  fortune  has  dealt  with  badly  smothering  his 
peculiar  griefs  in  his  own  bosom,  and  doing  his  duty  in  society  with 
an  unruffled  brow  and  a  cheerful  mien.  It  is  a  duty  which  society 
has  a  right  to  demand — a  portion  of  that  great  chain  which  binds 
humanity  together,  the  links  of  which  every  one  should  preserve 
bright  and  unsullied. 

6.  It  may  be  asked,  "What  shall  that  man  do  whose  burdens  of  grief 
are  heavy,  and  made  still  heavier  by  the  tears  he  has  shed  over  them 
in  private  ;  shall  he  leave  society  ?  Certainly,  until  he  has  learned  to 
bear  his  own  burden.  Shall  he  not  seek  the  sympathy  of  his  friends  ? 
He  had  better  not.  Sympathy  would  only  weaken  the  masculine 
Ftrength  of  mind  which  enables  us  to  endure.  Besides,  sympathy  un- 
sought for  is  much  more  readily  given,  and  sinks  deeper  in  its  healing 
effects  into  the  heart.  No,  no,  cheerfulness  is  a  duty  which  everv 
man  owes.     Let  him  faithfully  discharge  the  debt. 


Be  Comprehensive. 


1.  Talk  to  the  point,  and  stop  when  you  reach  it.  The  faculty 
which  some  possess  of  making  one  idea  cover  a  quire  of  paper  is  des- 
picable. To  fill  a  volume  upon  nothing  is  a  credit  to  nobody,  though 
Chesterfield  wrote  a  very  clever  poem  upon  nothing. 

2  There  are  men  who  get  one  idea  into  their  heads,  and  but  one, 
and  they  make  the  most  of  it.  You  can  see  it  and  almost  feel  it  in 
their  presence.  On  all  occasions  it  is  produced  till  it  is  worn  as  thin 
as  charity.  They  remind  you  of  a  twenty-four  pounder  discharging 
at  a  humming-bird.  You  hear  a  tremendous  noise,  see  a  volume  of 
smoke,  but  you  look  in  vai^  for  the  effects.  The  bird  is  scattered  to 
atoms. 

3.  Just  so  with  the  ideh.  It  is  enveloped  in  a  cloud,  and  lost 
amid  the  rumbling  of  words  and  flourishes.  Short  letters,  sermons, 
speeches  and  paragraphs  are  favorites  with  us.  Commend  us  to  the 
young  man  who  wrote  to  his  father,  "  Dear  sir,  I  am  going  to  get 


DIDACTIC  STYLE.  249 

married ;"  and  also  to  the  old  gentleman,  who  replied,  "  Dear  son,  go 
ahead." 

4.  Such  are  the  men  for  action.  They  do  more  than  they  say. 
The  half  is  not  told  in  their  cases.  They  are  worth  their  weight  in 
gold  for  every  purpose  of  Ufe,  and  are  men  every-where  prized. 


Hamlet's  Advice  to  the  Playeks. 

Shakspeare. 

Speak  the  speech,  I  pray  yon,  as  I  pronounced  it  to  you,  trippingly 
on  the  tongue  ;  but  if  you  mouth  it,  as  many  of  our  players  do,  I  had 
as  Hef  the  town-crier  had  spoken  my  lines.  And  do  not  saw  the  air 
too  much  with  your  hands,  but  use  all  gently,  for  in  the  very  torrent, 
tempest,  and,  as  I  may  say,  whirlwind  of  your  passion,  you  must  be- 
get a  temperance  that  will  give  it  smoothness. 

0  it  offends  me  to  the  soul  to  hear  a  robustious,  periwig-pated  fel- 
low tear  a  passion  to  tatters,  to  very  rags,  to  split  the  ears  of  the 
groundlings,  who  (for  the  most  part)  are  capable  of  nothing  but  inex- 
plicable dumb  shows  and  noise.     Pray  you  avoid  it. 

Be  not  too  tame  either,  but  let  your  own  discretion  be  your  tutor. 
Suit  the  action  to  the  word,  the  word  to  the  action,  with  this  special 
observance,  that  you  overstep  not  the  modesty  of  nature,  for  any 
thing  so  overdone  is  from  the  purpose  of  playing,  whose  end  is  to 
hold,  as  it  were,  the  mirror  up  to  nature,  to  show  virtue  her  own 
feature,  scorn  her  own  image,  and  the  very  age  and  body  of  the  times 
their  form  and  pressure. 

Now  this  overdone,  or  come  tardy  off,  though  it  may  make  the  un- 
skihful  laugh,  cannot  but  make  the  judicious  grieve,  the  censure  of 
which  one  must,  in  your  allowance,  outweigh  a  whole  theater  of 
others.  0  there  be  players  that  I  have  seen  play,  and  heard  others 
praise,  and  that  highly — not  to  speak  it  profanely  —  that  neither 
having  the  accent  of  Christian  nor  the  gait  of  Christian,  pagan,  nor 
man,  have  so  strutted  and  bellowed  that  I  have  thought  some  of  Na- 
ture's journeymen  had  made  men  and  not  made  them  well,  they  imi» 
tated  humanity  so  abominably. 


Industry  and  Eloquence. 

Wirt. 

1.  In  the  ancient  republics  of  Greece  and  Rome  oratory  was  a 
necessary  branch  of  a  finished  education.     A  much  smaller  proper- 


250  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

tion  of  the  ^-itizens  were  educated  than  among  us,  but  uf  these  a  much 
larger  number  became  orators.  No  man  could  hope  for  distinction  or 
influence  and  yet  slight  this  art.  The  commanders  of  their  armies 
were  orators  as  well  as  soldiers,  and  ruled  as  well  by  their  rhetorical 
as  by  their  military  skill.  There  was  no  trusting  with  them,  as  v/ith 
us,  to  a  natural  facility  or  the  acquisition  of  an  accident^Ll  fluency  by 
occasional  practice. 

2.  They  served  an  apprenticeship  to  the  art.  They  passed  through 
a  regular  course  of  instruction  in  schools ;  they  submitted  to  long  and 
laborious  discipline;  they  exercised  themselves  frequently  both  before 
equals  and  in  the  presence  of  teachers,  who  criticised,  reproved,  re« 
buked,  excited  emulation,  and  left  nothing  undone  which  art  and  per 
severance  could  accomplisii. 

3.  The  greatest  orators  of  antiquity,  so  far  from  being  favored  by 
natural  tendencies,  except,  indeed,  in  their  high  intellectual  endow- 
ments, had  to  struggle  against  natural  obstacles,  and,  instead  of  grow- 
ing up  spontaneously  to  their  unrivaled  eminence,  they  forced  them- 
selves forward  by  the  most  discouraging  artificial  process. 

4.  Demosthenes  combated  an  impediment  in  speech  and  an  ungain- 
iiness  of  gesture  which  at  first  drove  him  from  the  forum  in  disgrace, 
Cicero  failed  at  first  tlirough  weakness  of  lungs  and  an  excessive  ve- 
hemence of  manner  which  wearied  the  hearers  and  defeated  his  own 
purpose.  These  defects  were  conquered  by  study  and  discipline. 
He  exiled  himself  from  home,  and  during  his  absence  in  various  lands 
passed  not  a  day  without  a  rhetorical  exercise,  seeking  the  masters 
who  were  most  severe  in  criticism  as  the  surest  means  of  leading  him 
to  the  perfection  at  which  he  aimed. 

5.  Such,  too,  was  the  education  of  their  other  great  men.  They 
were  all,  according  to  their  ability  and  station,  orators ;  orators,  not 
by  nature  or  accident,  but  by  education,  formed  in  strict  process  of 
rhetorical  training. 

6.  The  inference  to  be  drawn  from  these  observations  is,  that  if  so 
many  of  those  who  received  an  accomplished  education  became  ac- 
complished orators,  because  to  become  so  was  one  purpose  of  theii 
study,  then  it  is  in  the  power  of  a  much  larger  proportion  among  U3 
to  form  ourselves  into  creditable  and  accurate  speakers  The  infer- 
ence should  r  ot  be  denied  until  proved  false  by  experiment. 

7.  Let  this  art  be  made  an  object  of  attention ;  let  young  men  train 
themselves  to  it  faitlifuUy  and  long,  and  if  any  of  cora[ietent  talents 
and  tolerable  science  be  found  at  last  incapable  of  expressing  them- 
selves in  continued  and  connected  discourse,  so  as  to  answer  the  ends 
of  public  speaking,  then,  and  not  till  then,  let  it  bo  said  that  a  pecul- 


DIDACTIC  STYLE.  251 

lar  talent  or  natural  aptitude  is  requisite,  tlie  want  of  which  must 
reader  effort  vain ;  then,  and  not  till  then,  let  us  acquiesce  in  this  in- 
dolent and  timorous  notion,  which  contradicts  the  whole  testimony  of 
antiquity  and  all  the  experience  of  the  world. 


No  Excellence  Without  Labor. 

Wirt. 

1.  The  education,  :moral  and  intellectual,  of  every  individual  must 
be  chiefly  his  own  work.  Rely  upon  it  that  the  ancients  were  right ; 
both  in  morals  and  intellect  we  give  their  final  shape  to  our  own 
characters,  and  thus  become  emphatically  the  architects  of  our  own 
fortunes.  How  else  could  it  happen  that  young  men  who  have  had 
precisely  the  same  opportunities  should  be  continually  presenting  us 
with  such  different  results,  and  rushing  to  such  opposite  destinies  ? 
Difference  of  talent  will  not  solve  it»  because  that  difference  very  often 
is  in  favor  of  the  disappointed  candidate. 

2.  You  shall  see  issuing  from  the  walls  of  the  same  college,  nay, 
sometimes  from  the  bosom  of  the  same  family,  two  young  men,  of 
whom  the  one  shall  be  admitted  to  be  a  genius  of  high  order,  the 
other  scarcely  above  the  point  of  mediocrity;  yet  you  shall  see  the 
genius  sinking  and  perishing  in  poverty,  obscurity  and  wretchedness  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  you  shall  observe  the  mediocre  plodding  his 
slow  but  sure  way  up  the  hill  of  life,  gaining  steadfast  footing  at  every 
step,  and  mounting  at  length  to  eminence  and  distinction,  an  orna- 
ment to  his  family,  a  blessing  to  his  country.  Now,  whose  work  is 
this  ?  Manifestly  their  own.  They  are  the  architects  of  their  respect- 
ive fortunes. 

3.  The  best  seminary  of  learning  that  can  open  its  portals  to  you 
can  do  no  more  than  afford  you  the  opportunity  of  instruction ;  but  it 
must  depend  at  last  on  yourselves  whether  you  will  be  instructed  or 
not,  or  to  what  point  you  will  push  your  instruction.  And  of  this,  be 
assured,  I  speak  from  observation  a  certain  truth :  there  is  no  excel- 
lence without  great  labor.  It  is  the  fiat  of  fate,  from  which  no  powei 
of  genius  can  absolve  you. 

4.  Genius  unexerted  is  like  the  poor  moth  that  flutters  around  a 
candle  till  it  scorches  itself  to  death.  If  genius  be  desirable  at  all  it 
is  only  of  that  great  and  magnanimous  kind  which,  lik-e  the  condor 
of  South  America,  pitches  from  the  summit  of  Chimborazo  above  the 
clouds,  and  sustains  itself  at  pleasure  in  that  empyreal  region  with  aa 
ftuergy  ritli^r  invigorated  than  weakened  by  the  effort. 


252  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

5.  It  is  this  capacity  for  high  and  long-continued  exertion,  this 
vigorous  power  of  profound  and  searching  investigation,  this  careering 
and  wide-spreading  comprehension  of  mind,  and  those  lon^  reaches 
of  thought  that 

"...  pluck  bright  honor  from  the  pule-facsed  moon, 
Or  dive  into  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 
Where  fathom  line  could  never  touch  the  ground, 
.\jid  drag  up  drowned  honor  by  the  locks." 

This  is  the  prowess  and  these  the  hardy  achievements  wLich  are  io 
enroll  your  names  among  the  great  men  of  the  earth. 


Advice  to  a  Young  Lawyer. 

Judge  Story. 

1.  "Whene'er  you  speak,  remember  every  cause 
Stands  not  on  eloquence,  but  stands  on  laws ; 
Pregnant  in  matter,  in  expression  brief, 

Let  every  sentence  stand  with  bold  relief; 
On  trifling  points  nor  time  nor  talents  waste, 
A  sad  offense  to  learning  and  to  taste ; 
Nor  deal  with  pompous  phrase,  nor  e'er  suppose 
Poetic  flights  belong  to  reasoning  prose. 

2.  Loose  declamation  may  deceive  the  crowd. 
And  seem  more  striking  as  it  grows  more  loud ; 
But  sober  sense  rejects  it  with  disdain. 

As  naught  but  empty  noise,  and  weak  as  vain. 

3.  The  froth  of  words,  the  schoolboy's  vain  parade 
Of  books  and  cases — all  his  stock  in  trade — 
The  pert  conceits,  the  cunning  tricks  and  play 
Of  low  attorneys,  strung  in  long  array. 

The  unseemly  jest,  the  petulant  reply. 
That  chatters  on,  and  cares  not  how  or  why, 
Strictly  avoid — unworthy  themes  to  scan. 
They  sink  the  speaker  and  disgrace  the  man ; 
Like  the  false  lights  by  flying  shadows  cast, 
Scarce  seen  when  present,  and  forgot  when  past 

4.  Begin  with  dignity ;  expound  with  grace 
Each  ground  of  reasoning  in  its  time  and  place ; 
Let  order  reign  throughout,  each  topic  touch, 
Nor  urge  its  power  too  little  nor  too  much  • 


DIDACTIC   STYLE.  253 

Give  eacli  stron.sc  tlioiip;ht  its  most  attractive  view. 

In  diction  clear  and  yet  severely  true. 

And  as  the  arguments  in  splendor  grow, 

Let  each  reflect  its  light  on  all  below ; 

Wlien  to  the  close  arrived,  make  no  delays 

By  petty  flourishes  or  verbal  plays. 

But  sum  the  whole  in  one  deep,  solemn  strain, 

Like  a  strong  current  hastening  to  the  main. 


Modulation. 

Lloyd. 

1.  'Tis  not  enough  the  voice  be  sound  and  clear, 
'Tis  modulation  that  must  charm  the  ear. 
Tliat  voice  all  modes  of  passion  can  express 
"Which  marks  the  proper  word  with  proper  stress ; 
But  none  emphatic  can  that  speaker  call 

"Who  lays  an  equal  emphasis  on  all. 
Some  o'er  the  tongue  the  labored  measures  roll, 
Slow  and  deliberate  as  the  parting  toll ; 
Point  every  stop,  mark  every  pause  so  strong, 
Their  words,  like  stage  processions,  stalk  along. 

2.  All  affectation  but  creates  disgust. 

And  e'en  in  speaking  we  may  seem  too  just. 
In  vain  for  them  the  pleasing  measure  flows 
Whose  recitation  runs  it  all  to  prose ; 
Repeating  what  the  poet  sets  not  down, 
The  verb  disjointing  from  its  favorite  noun. 
While  pause  aud  break  and  repetition  join 
To  make  a  discord  in  each  tuneful  line. 

3.  Some  placid  natures  fiU  the  allotted  scene 
With  lifeless  drawls,  insipid  and  serene; 
While  others  thunder  every  couplet  o'er. 

And  almost  crack  your  ears  with  rant  and  roar. 
More  nature  oft,  and  finer  strokes  are  sliown 
In  the  low  whisper  than  tempestuous  tone ; 
And  Hamlet's  hollow  voice  and  fixed  amaze 
More  powerful  terror  to  the  mind  conveys 
Than  he  who,  swollen  with  impetuous  rage, 
Bullies  the  bulky  phantom  of  the  stage. 


254  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

4.  He  wlio  in  earnest  studies  o'er  his  part, 
"Will  find  true  nature  cling  about  bis  heart. 
The  modes  of  grief  are  not  included  all 
In  the  white  handkerchief  and  mournful  drawl ; 
A  single  look  more  marks  the  internal  woe 
Than  all  the  windings  of  the  lengthened  0  1 
Up  to  the  face  the  quick  sensation  tlies, 
And  darts  its  meaning  from  the  speaking  eyfiS: 
Love,  transport,  madness,  anger,  scorn,  despair, 
A.nd  all  the  passions,  all  the  soul  is  there. 


Don't  Run  in  Debt. 

Eliza  Cook. 

1.  Don't  run  in  debt — never  mind,  never  mind 

If  the  clothes  are  faded  and  torn ; 
Fix  'em  up,  make  'em  do,  it  is  better  by  far, 

Than  to  have  the  heart  weary  and  worn. 
Who'll  love  you  more  for  the  set  of  your  hat, 

Or  your  rufi*  or  the  tie  of  your  shoe. 
The  style  of  your  vest,  or  your  boots  or  cravat, 

If  they  know  you're  in  debt  for  the  new  ? 

2.  There's  no  comfort,  I  tell  you,  in  walking  the  street 

In  fine  clotlies  if  you  know  you're  in  debt. 
And  feel  that  perchance  you  some  tradesman  may  meet 
Who  will  sneer,  "  They're  not  paid  for  yet." 

3.  Good  friends,  let  me  beg  of  you,  don't  run  in  debt; 

If  the  chairs  and  the  sofa  are  old, 
They  will  fit  your  backs  better  than  any  new  set, 

Unless  they  are  paid  for  with  gold. 
If  the  house  is  too  small,  draw  the  closer  together; 

Keep  it  w^arm  with  a  hearty  good-will ; 
A  big  one  unpaid  for,  in  all  kinds  of  weather, 

Will  send  to  your  warm  heart  a  chill. 

4.  Don't  run  in  debt — dear  girls,  take  a  hint, 

If  the  fashions  have  changed  since  last  season^ 
Old  nature  is  out  in  the  very  same  tint, 

And  old  nature,  we  'hink,  has  some  reason. 


DIDACTIC   STYLE.  255 

But  just  say  to  your  friend  that  you  cannot  afford 
To  spend  time  to  keep  up  with  the  fashion ; 

That  your  purse  is  too  liglit,  and  your  honor  too  bright 
To  be  tarnished  with  such  silly  passion. 

Gents,  don't  run  in  debt — let  your  friends,  if  they  can, 

Have  fine  houses,  and  feathers,  and  flowers, 
But,  unless  they  are  paid  for,  be  more  of  a  man 

Than  to  envy  their  sunshiny  hours. 
If  you've  money  to  spare  I  have  nothing  to  say — 

Spend  your  dollars  and  dimes  as  you  please, 
But  mind  you,  the  man  who  his  note  has  to  pay, 

la  the  man  who  is  never  at  ease. 

Kind  husband,  don't  run  in  debt  any  more ; 

'Twill  fill  your  wife's  cup  of  sorrow 
To  know  that  a  neighbor  may  call  at  your  door 

"With  a  bill  you  must  settle  to-morrow. 
O  lake  my  advice  1  it  is  good  1  it  is  true  1 

(But  lest  you  may  somo  of  you  doubt  it,) 
I'll  whisper  a  secret,  now  seeing  'tis  you : 

1  have  tried  it,  and  know  all  about  it. 

The  chain  of  a  debtor  is  heavy  and  cold, 

Its  links  all  corrosion  and  rust ; 
aUld  it  o'er  as  you  will,  it  is  never  of  gold 

Then  spurn  it  aside  with  disgust. 


QUEEIES. 

1.  Is  it  any  body's  business 

If  a  gentleman  should  choose 
To  wait  upon  a  lady 

If  the  lady  don't  refuse  ? 
Or,  to  speak  a  little  plainer, 

That  tlie  meaning  all  may  know 
Is  it  any  body's  business 

If  a  lady  has  a  beau  ? 

2.  Is  it  any  body's  business 

When  that  gentleman  may  call, 
Or  when  he  leaves  the  lady, 
Or  if  he  leaves  at  all  ? 


25d  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Or  is  it  necessary 

That  the  curtain  should  be  drawn. 
To  save  from  further  trouble 

The  outside  lookers-on  ? 

3.  Is  it  any  body's  business 

But  the  lady's,  if  her  beau 
Eides  out  with  other  ladies, 

And  doesn't  let  her  know  ? 
Is  it  any  body's  business 

But  the  gentleman's,  if  she 
Accepts  another  escort, 

Where  he  doesn't  chance  to  be  ? 

4.  Is  a  person  on  the  sidewalk. 

Whether  great  or  whether  stnali 
Is  it  any  body's  business 

Where  that  person  means  to  call  T 
Or  if  you  see  a  person, 

As  he's  calling  anywhere, 
Is  it  any  of  your  business 

What  his  business  may  be  there  ^ 

5.  The  substance  of  our  query, 

Simply  stated,  would  be  this : 
Is  it  any  body's  business 

What  another's  business  is  ? 
If  it  is,  or  if  it  isn't, 

We  would  really  like  to  know  : 
For  we're  certain,  if  it  isn't, 

Thore  are  some  who  make  t  Ra 


LIVELY   STYLE.  257 


CHAPTER    Y  I  I. 

LIVELY  STYLE. 

The  Lively  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
animated  narration,  animated  description,  animated 
thought  of  every  kind  in  which  the  feeling  does  not 
rise  to  impassioned  emotion. 

The  Personality  and  Uses  of  a  Laugh. 

1.  I  would  be  willing  to  choose  my  friend  by  the  quality  of  his  laugh, 
and  abide  the  issue.  A  glad,  gushing  outflow — a  clear,  ringing,  mellow 
note  of  the  soul,  as  surely  indicates  a  genial  and  genuine  nature  as  the 
rainbow  in  the  dew-drop  heralds  the  morning  sun,  or  the  frail  flower 
in  the  wilderness  betrays  the  zephyr-tossed  seed  of  the  parterre. 

2.  A  laugh  is  one  of  God's  truths.  It  tolerates  no  disguises. 
Falsehood  may  train  its  voice  to  flow  in  softest  cadences,  its  Ups  to 
wreathe  into  smiles  of  surpassing  sweetness,  its  face 

"  . . . .  to  put  on 

That  look  we  trust  in  ;" 

But  its  laugh  will  betray  the  mockery.  Who  has  not  startled  and 
shuddered  at  the  hollow  "  he-he-he  1  "  of  some  velvet-voiced  Mephis- 
topheles,  whose  sinuous  fascinations,  without  this  note  of  warning,  this 
premonitory  rattle — might  have  bound  the  soul  with  a  strong  spell  ? 

3.  Leave  nature  alone.  If  she  is  noble,  her  broadest  expression 
will  soon  tone  itself  down  to  fine  accordance  with  life's  earnestness ; 
if  she  is  base,  no  silken  inter weavings  can  keep  out  of  sight  her  ugly 
head  of  discord.  If  we  put  a  laugh  into  strait-jacket  and  leading* 
strings  it  becomes  an  abortion ;  if  we  attempt  to  refine  we  destroy  its' 
pure,  mellifluent  ring ;  if  we  suppress  a  laugh  it  struggles  and  dies  on 
the  heart,  and  the  place  where  it  lies  is  apt  ever  after  to  be  woak  and 
vulnerable.  No,  laugh  truly,  as  you  would  speak  truly,  and  both  the 
inner  and  the  outer  man  will  rejoice.  A  full,  spontaneous  outburst 
opens  all  the  delicate  valves  of  being,  and  glides,  a  subtle  oil,  through 
all  its  complicated  mechanism. 

4.  Laugh  heartily  if  you  would  keep  the  dew  of  your  youth. 
There  is  no  need  to  lay  our  girlhood  and  boyhood  so  doggedly  down 

17 


258  SOIEISCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

upon  the  altar  of  sacrifice  as  we  toil  up  life's  mountain.  Dear,  inno- 
cent children,  lifting  their  dewy  eyes  and  fair  foreheads  to  the  benedic- 
tions of  angels,  prattling  and  gamboling  because  it  is  a  great  joy  to  live, 
should  flit  like  sunbeams  among  the  stern-faced  and  stalwart.  Young 
men  and  maidens  should  walk  with  strong,  elastic  tread  and  cneerful 
voices  among  the  weak  and  uncertain.  White  hairs  should  be  no  more 
the  insignia  of  age,  but  the  crown  of  ripe  and  perennial  youth. 

5.  Laugh  for  your  beauty.  The  joyous  carry  a  fountain  of  ligl.t  'u 
their  eyes,  and  round  into  rosy  dimples,  where  the  echoes  of  gladness 
play  at  "hide  and  go  seek."  Your  "lean  and  hungry  Cassius"  is 
never  betrayed  into  a  laugh,  and  his  smile  is  more  cadaverous  than 
his  despair. 

6.  Laugh  if  you  would  live.  He  only  exists  who  drags  his  daya 
after  him  like  a  massive  chain,  asking  sympathy  with  uplifted  eye- 
brows and  weak  utterance,  as  the  beggar  asks  alms.  Better  die,  for 
your  own  sake  and  the  world's  sake,  than  to  pervert  the  uses  and 
graces  and  dignities  of  life. 

T.  Make  your  own  sunshine  and  your  own  music,  keep  your  lieart 
open  to  the  smile  of  the  good  Father,  and  brave  all  things. 

"  Care  to  our  coflan  adds  a  nail,  no  doubt, 
And  every  grin  so  merry  draws  one  out" 


Paddle  Your  Own  Canoe. 

Mrs.  So/rah  T.  Bolton. 

1.  Yoyager  upon  hfe's  sea, 

To  yourself  be  true ; 
And  where'er  your  lot  may  bo, 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 
Never,  though  the  winds  may  rave, 

Falter  nor  look  back, 
But  upon  the  darkest  wave 

Leave  a  shining  track. 

2.  Nobly  dare  the  wildest  storm, 

Stem  the  hardest  gale ; 
Brave  of  heart  and  strong  of  arm, 

You  win  never  fail. 
When  the  world  is  cold  and  dark, 

Keep  an  end  in  view, 
And  toward  the  beacon  mark 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 


LIVELY  STYLE.  259 

3.  Every  wave  that  bears  you  on 

To  the  silent  shore. 
From  its  sunny  source  has  gone 

To  return  no  more : 
Then  let  not  an  hour's  delay 

Cheat  you  of  your  due ; 
But  while  it  is  called  to-day, 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 

4.  If  your  birth  denied  you  wealth, 

Lofty  state  and  power, 
Honest  fame  and  hardy  health 

Are  a  better  dower ; 
But  if  these  will  not  suffice. 

Golden  gain  pursue, 
And  to  win  the  glittering  prize, 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 

5.  "Would  you  wrest  the  wealth  of  fame 

From  the  hand  of  fate ; 
Would  you  write  a  deathless  name. 

With  the  good  and  great ; 
Would  you  bless  your  fellow-men  ? 

Heart  and  soul  imbue 
With  the  holy  task,  and  then 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 

6.  Would  you  crush  the  tyrant  wrong 

In  the  world's  fierce  fight? 
With  a  spirit  brave  and  strong. 

Battle  for  the  right ;    ■ 
And  to  break  the  chains  that  bind 

The  many  to  the  few — 
To  enfranchise  slavish  mind, 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 

t.  Nothing  great  is  lightly  won, 

Nothing  won  is  lost ; 
Every  good  deed  nobly  done 

Will  repay  the  cost. 
Leave  to  Heaven,  in  humble  trust, 

All  you  will  to  do ; 
But  if  you  succeed,  you  must 

Paddle  your  own  canoe. 


260  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

I'm  With  You  Once  Again, 

G.  P.  Morris. 

1.  I'm  with  you  once  again,  my  friends ; 

No  more  my  footsteps  roam ; 
Where  it  began  my  journey  ends, 

Amid  the  scenes  of  home. 
No  other  clime  has  skies  so  blue, 

Or  streams  so  broad  and  clear; 
And  where  are  hearts  so  warm  and  true 

As  those  that  meet  me  here  ? 

2.  Since  last,  with  spirits  wild  and  free, 

I  pressed  my  native  strand, 
I've  wandered  many  miles  at  sea, 

And  many  miles  on  land : 
I've  seen  fair  regions  of  the  earth 

With  rude  commotion  torn, 
Which  taught  me  how  to  prize  the  worth 

Of  that  where  I  was  born. 

3.  In  other  countries,  when  I  heard 

The  language  of  my  own. 
How  fondly  each  familiar  word 

Awoke  an  answering  tone  1 
But  when  our  woodland  songs  were  sung 

Upon  a  foreign  mart, 
The  vows  that  faltered  on  the  tongue 

With  rapture  filled  my  heart. 

4.  My  native  land,  I  turn  to  you 

With  blessing  and  with  prayer, 
Where  man  is  brave  and  woman  true, 

And  free  as  mountain  air. 
Long  may  our  flag  in  triumph  wave 

Against  the  world  combined, 
And  friends  a  welcome,  foes  a  grave, 

Within  our  borders  find. 


A  Psalm  of  Life. 

Longfellow. 
Tell  me  not,  in  mournful  numbers, 

Life  is  but  an  empty  dream  1 
For  the  soul  is  dead  that  slumbers, 

And  things  are  not  what  they  seem 


LIVELY  STYLE.  261 

2.  Life  is  real  1     Life  is  earnest  I 

And  the  grave  is  not  its  goal : 
"  Dust  thou  art,  to  dust  returnest," 
"Was  not  written  of  the  soul. 

3.  Not  enjoyment,  and  not  sorrow, 

Is  our  destined  end  or  way, 

But  to  act,  that  each  to-morrow 

Eind  us  further  than  to-day. 

4.  Art  is  long,  and  time  is  fleeting. 

And  our  hearts,  though  stout  and  brave, 
Still,  like  muflled  drums,  are  beating 
Funeral  marches  to  the  grave. 

5.  In  the  world's  broad  field  of  battle, 

In  the  bivouac  of  life, 
Be  not  hke  dumb,  driven  cattle; 
Be  a  hero  in  the  strife. 

6.  Trust  no  future,  howe'er  pleasant ; 

Let  the  dead  X->ast  bury  its  dead ; 
Act ;  act  in  the  living  present ; 
Heart  within,  and  God  o'erhead. 

7.  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 

We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time ; 

8.  Footprints  that  perhaps  another, 

Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main, 

A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 

Seeing,  shall  take  heart  again. 

9.  Let  us,  then,  be  up  and  doing 
With  a  heart  for  any  fate ; 
StiU  achieving,  still  pursuing, 
Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait 


262  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER    YIII. 

GAY  STYLE. 

The  Gay  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of  merry, 
joyous  thought.  Dramatic  scenes,  sketches  of  life  and 
manners,  vivid  delineations  of  cliaracter,  all  demand  the 
Gay  Style. 

Spring. 

Bryant, 

1.  Is  this  a  time  to  be  gloomy  and  sad, 

"When  our  mother  Nature  laughs  around, 
"When  even  the  deep  blue  heavens  look  glad, 

And  gladness  breathes  from  the  blossoming  ground  ? 

2.  The  clouds  are  at  play  in  the  azure  space, 

And  their  shadows  at  play  on  the  bright  green  vt*le ; 
And  here  they  stretch  to  the  frolic  chase, 
And  there  they  roll  on  the  easy  gale. 

3.  And  look  at  the  broad-faced  sun,  how  he  smiles 

On  the  dewy  earth  that  smiles  on  his  ray, 

On  the  leaping  waters  and  gay  young  isles ; 

Ay,  look,  and  he'll  smile  thy  gloom  away. 


You:n^g  Lochinvar. 

Scott. 

1.  0,  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  west  1 
Through  all  the  wide  border  his  steed  was  the  best; 
And  save  his  good  broadsword  he  weapon  had  none; 
He  rode  all  unarmed,  and  he  rode  all  alone. 

So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war. 
There  never  was  knight  like  the  young  Lochinvar. 

2.  He  staid  not  for  brake,  and  he  stopped  not  for  stone ; 
He  swam  the  Eske  river,  where  ford  there  was  none; 
But  ere  he  aligiited  at  Netherby  gate 

The  bride  had  consented,  the  gallant  came  late. 


GAY  STYLE.  268 

For  a  laggard  in  love,  and  a  dastard  in  war, 
Was  to  wed  the  fair  Ellen  of  brave  Locliinvar. 

3.  So  boldly  he  entered  the  Netherby  hall, 

'Mong  bridesmen,  and  kinsmen,  and  brothers,  and  all. 
Then  spoke  the  bride's  father,  his  hand  on  his  sword, 
(For  the  poor  craven  bridegroom  said  never  a  word,) 
"  0  come  ye  in  peace  here,  or  come  ye  in  war. 
Or  to  dance  at  our  bridal,  young  Lord  Lochinvar  ?  " 

4.  "  I  long  wooed  your  daughter,  my  suit  you  denied ; 
Love  swells  like  the  Solway,  but  ebbs  like  its  tide ; 
And  now  am  I  come,  with  this  lost  love  of  mine. 
To  lead  but  one  measure,  drink  one  cup  of  wine. 
There  be  maidens  in  Scotland,  more  lovely  by  far, 
That  would  gladly  be  bride  to  the  young  Lochinvar." 

5.  The  bride  kissed  the  goblet,  the  knight  took  it  up, 
He  quaffed  ofi"  the  wine,  and  he  threw  down  the  cup : 
She  looked  down  to  blush,  and  she  looked  up  to  sigh, 
"With  a  smile  on  her  lips  and  a  tear  in  her  eye. 

He  took  her  soft  hand  ere  her  mother  could  bar, 
"Now  tread  we  a  measure,"  said  young  Lochinvar. 

Q.  So  stately  his  form,  and  so  lovely  her  face, 
Tha,t  never  a  hall  such  a  galliard  did  grace ; 
While  her  mother  did  fret,  and  her  father  did  fume, 
And  the  bridegroom  stood  dangling  his  bonnet  and  plume, 
And  the  bride-maidens  whispered,  "  'Twere  better  by  far 
To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Lochinvar." 

7.  One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear 

When  they  reached  the  hall-door,  and  the  charger  stood  near; 

So  light  to  the  croup  the  fair  lady  he  swung. 

So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung. 

"  She  is  won  1  we  are  gone — over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur — 

They'll  have  swift  steeds  that  follow,"  quoth  young  Lochinvar. 

8   There  was  mounting  'mong  G-raemes  of  the  Netherby  clan, 
Forsters,  Fenwicks,  and  Musgraves,  they  rode  and  they  ran; 
There  was  racing  and  chasing  on  Cannobie  Lee, 
But  the  lost  bride  of  Netherby  ne'er  did  they  see. 
So  daring  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 
Have  ye  e'er  heard  of  gallant  like  young  Lochinvar? 


264  SCIEXCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

Let  Us  Try  to  be  Happy. 

1.  Let  us  try  to  be  happy  I     We  may  if  we  will 
Find  some  pleasures  in  life  to  o'erbalance  the  ill ; 
There  was  never  an  evil,  if  well  understood, 

But  what,  rightly  managed,  would  turn  to  a  good. 

If  we  were  but  as  ready  to  look  to  the  light 

As  we  are  to  sit  moping  because  it  is  night, 

We  should  own  it  a  truth,  both  in  word  and  in  deed, 

That  who  tries  to  be  happy  is  sure  to  succeed. 

2.  Let  us  try  to  be  happy  1     Some  shades  of  regret 
Are  sure  to  hang  round  which  we  cannot  forget ; 
There  are  times  when  the  lightest  of  spirits  must  bow 
And  the  sunniest  face  wear  a  cloud  on  its  brow. 

We  must  never  bid  feelings,  the  purest  and  best, 
To  He  blunted  and  cold  in  our  bosom  at  rest ; 
But  the  deeper  our  own  griefs  the  greater  our  need 
To  try  to  be  happy  lest  other  hearts  bleed. 

B.  0  try  to  be  happy !     It  is  not  for  long 

We  shall  cheer  on  each  other  by  counsel  or  song ; 
If  we  make  the  best  use  of  our  time  that  we  may, 
There  is  much  we  can  do  to  enliven  the  way; 
Let  us  only  in  earnestness  each  do  our  best. 
Before  God  and  our  conscience,  and  trust  for  the  rest ; 
Still  taking  this  truth,  both  in  word  and  in  deed, 
That  who  tries  to  be  happy  is  sure  to  succeed. 


Coquette  Punished. 

1.  Ellen  was  fair,  and  knew  it,  too, 
As  other  village  beauties  do, 

Whose  mirrors  never  lie ; 
Secure  of  any  swain  she  chose, 
She  smiled  on  half  a  dozen  beaux, 
And,  reckless  of  a  lover's  woes, 
She  cheated  these  and  taunted  those, 
**  For  how  could  any  ore  suppose 

A  clown  could  take  her  eye  ?  " 

2.  But  whispers  through  the  village  ran 
That  Edgar  was  the  happy  man 

The  maid  designed  to  bless ; 


GAY  STYLE.  265 

For,  wheresoever  moved  the  fair, 
The  youth  was,  like  her  shadow,  there, 
And  rumor  boldly  matched  the  pair, 
For  vUlage  folks  will  guess. 

3.  Edgar  did  love,  but  was  afraid 
To  make  confession  to  the  maid, 

So  bashful  was  the  youth : 
Certain  to  meet  a  kind  return, 
He  let  the  flame  in  secret  burn. 
Till  from  his  lips  the  maid  should  learn 

Officially  the  truth. 

4.  At  length  one  morn  to  take  the  air, 
The  youth  and  maid,  in  one-horse  chair, 

A  long  excursion  took. 
Edgar  had  nerved  his  bashful  heart 
The  sweet  confession  to  impart. 
For  ah  1  suspense  had  caused  a  smart 

He  could  no  longer  brook. 

5.  He  drove,  nor  slackened  once  his  reins, 
Till  Hempstead's  wide-extended  plains 

Seemed  joined  to  skies  above : 
Nor  house,  nor  tree,  nor  shrub  was  near 
The  rude  and  dreary  scene  to  cheer, 
Nor  soul  within  ten  miles  to  hear. 
And  still  poor  Edgar's  silly  fear 

Forbade  to  speak  of  love. 

6.  At  last  one  desperate  effort  broke 
The  bashful  spell,  and  Edgar  spoke 

With  most  persuasive  tone ; 
Recounted  past  attendance  o'er, 
And  then,  by  all  that's  lovely,  swore 
That  he  would  love  forever  more, 

If  she'd  become  his  own. 

7.  The  maid  in  silence  heard  his  prayer, 
Then,  with  a  most  provoking  air. 

She  tittered  in  his  face ; 
And  said,  "  'Tis  time  for  you  to  know 
A  lively  girl  must  have  a  beau. 
Just  like  a  reticule — for  show; 
And  at  her  nod  to  come  and  go ; 

But  he  should  know  his  place. 


266  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

8.  "  Your  penetration  must  be  dull 
To  let  a  hope  within  your  skull 

Of  matrimony  spring. 
Your  wife  ?  ha !  ha !  upon  my  word, 
The  thought  is  laughably  absurd 
As  any  thing  I  ever  heard — 

I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing !  " 

9.  The  lover  sudden  dropp'd  his  rein 
When  on  the  center  of  the  plain; 

"  The  linch-pin's  out !  "  he  cried ; 
"  Be  pleased  one  moment  to  alight, 
Till  I  can  set  the  matter  right, 

That  we  may  safely  ride," 

10.  He  said,  and  handed  out  the  fair; 
Then  laughing,  cracked  his  whip  in  air, 
And  wheeling  round  his  horse  and  chair, 
Exclaimed,  "  Adieu,  I  leave  you  there 

In  solitude  to  roam." 
"  What  mean  you,  sir  ?  "  the  maiden  cried, 
"  Did  you  invite  me  out  to  ride. 
To  leave  me  here  wiiliout  a  guide  ? 

Nay,  stop,  and  take  me  home." 

11.  "  What  I  take  you  home !  "  exclaimed  the  beau, 
"  Indeed,  my  dear,  I'd  like  to  know 

How  such  a  hopeless  wish  could  grow, 

Or  in  your  bosom  spring. 
What !  take  Ellen  home  I  ha  1  ha !  upon  my  word, 
The  thought  is  laughably  absurd 
As  any  thing  I  e^'cr  heard — 

I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  1 " 


Rhyme  of  the  Raij^ 

Saxe. 
1.  Singing  through  the  forests, 

Rattling  over  ridges, 
Shooting  under  arches, 
Rumbling  over  bridges ; 


GAY  STYLE.  267 

Whizzmg  through  the  mountains. 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale, 
Bless  me !  this  is  pleasant, 

Riding  on  the  rail. 

2.  Men  of  different  stations 

Tn  the  eye  of  fame, 
Here  are  very  quickly 

Coming  to  the  same ; 
High  and  lowly  people, 

Birds  of  every  feather, 
On  a  common  level. 

Traveling  together. 

3.  Gentlemen  in  shorts, 

Looming  very  tall ; 
Gentlemen  at  large. 

Talking  very  small ; 
Gentlemen  in  tights, 

With  a  loose-ish  mien; 
Gentlemen  in  gray. 

Looking  rather  green , 

4.  Gentlemen  quite  old 

Asking  for  the  news ; 
Gentlemen  in  black, 

In  a  fit  of  blues ; 
Gentlemen  in  claret, 

Sober  as  a  vicar ; 
Gentlemen  in  tweed. 

Dreadfully  in  liquor. 

6.  Stranger  on  the  right 
Looking  very  sunny, 

Obviously  reading 

Something  rather  funny. 

Now  the  smiles  are  thicker- 
Wonder  what  they  mean  ? 

Paith,  he's  got  the  Knicker- 
bocker Magazine ! 

6.  Stranger  on  the  lefl 

Closing  up  his  peepers ; 
Kow  he  snores  amain, 
Like  the  Seven  Sleepers. 


288  sciejSTCe  of  elocutios". 

At  his  feet  a  volume 
Gives  the  explanation, 

How  the  man  grew  stupid 
From  "association!" 

7.  Ancient  maiden  lady 

Anxiously  remarks, 
That  there  must  be  peril 

'Mong  so  many  sparks ; 
Roguish-looking  fellow. 

Turning  to  the  stranger, 
Says  it's  his  opinion 

She  is  out  of  danger. 

8.  Woman  with  her  baby, 

Sitting  vis-a-vis  ; 
Baby  keeps  a- squalling. 

Woman  looks  at  me  ; 
Asks  about  the  distance. 

Says  it's  tiresome  talking^ 
Noises  of  the  cars 

Are  so  very  shocking. 

9.  Market  woman,  careful 

Of  the  precious  casket, 
Knowing  eggs  are  eggs. 

Tightly  holds  her  basket ; 
Feeling  that  a  smash, 
If  it  come,  would  surely 
^  Send  her  eggs  to  pot 

Rather  prematurely. 

10.  Singing  through  the  forests, 

Rattling  over  ridges. 
Shooting  under  arches. 

Rumbling  over  bridges ; 
Whizzing  through  the  raounlainai 

Buzzing  o'er  the  vale ; 
Bless  me !  this  is  pleasant, 

Riding  on  the  rail. 


JOYOUS  STYLE.  269 


CHAPTER    IX. 

JOYOUS  STYLE. 

The  Joyous  Style  is   appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
ecstatic  mirth,  joy  and  light  and  playful  humor. 

Many  of  the  scenes  and  passages  of  Shakspeare,  Scott, 
Irving  and  Cowper  demand  the  Joyous  Style. 

GUNEOPATHY. 

Saxe.  ^ 

1.  I  saw  a  lady  yesterday, 

A  regular  M.  D., 
Who'd  taken  from  the  Eaculty 

Her  medical  degree; 
And  I  thought  if  ever  I  was  sick 

My  doctor  she  should  be. 

2.  I  pity  the  deluded  man 

Who  foolishly  consults 
Another  man,  in  hopes  to  find 

Such  magical  results 
As  wlien  a  pretty  woman  lays 

Her  hand  upon  his  pulse  I 

3.  I  had  a  strange  disorder  once, 

A  kind  of  chronic  chill, 
That  all  the  doctors  in  the  town, 

With  all  their  vaunted  skill, 
Could  never  cure,  I'm  very  sure, 

With  powder  nor  with  pill ; 

4.  I  don't  know  what  they  called  it 

In  their  pompous  terms  of  art, 
Nor  if  they  thought  it  mortal 

In  such  a  vital  part ; 
I  only  know  'twas  reckoned 

"  Something  icy  round  the  heart." 


270  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

5.  A  lady  came,  lier  presence  brought 

The  blood  into  my  ears. 
She  took  my  hand,  and  something  like 

A  fever  now  appears. 
Great  Galen  1  I  was  all  aglow, 

Though  I'd  been  cold  for  years  I 

6.  Perhaps  it  isn't  every  case 

That's  fairly  in  her  reach, 
But  should  I  e'er  be  ill  agaia 

I  fervently  beseech 
That  I  may  have,  for  life  or  death, 

A  lady  for  ray  "  leech  1 " 


Mekctjtio's  Humorous  Description  op  Queeisi  Mab. 

ShaJcspeare. 

0  then  I  see  Queen  Mab  hath  been  with  you ! 

She  comes 
In  shape  no  bigger  than  an  agate  stone 
On  the  forefinger  of  an  alderman, 
Drawn  by  a  team  of  little  atomies 
Athwart  men's  noses  as  they  lie  asleep  : 
Her  wagon  spokes  made  of  long  spinners'  legs ; 
The  cover  of  the  wings  of  grasshoppers ; 
The  traces  of  the  smallest  spider's-  v/eb ; 
The  collars  of  the  moonshine's  watery  beams; 
Her  whip  of  cricket's  bone  ;  the  lash  of  film ; 
Her  wagoner  a  small  gray-coated  gnat, 
Not  half  so  big  as  a  round  little  worm 
Pricked  from  the  lazy  finger  of  a  maid ; 
Her  chariot  is  an  empty  hazelnut, 
Made  by  tlie  joiner  squirrel,  or  old  grub, 
Time  out  of  mind  the  fairies'  coach-makers. 
And  in  this  state  she  gallops  night  by  night 
Through  lover's  brains,  and  then  they  dream  of  love ; 
On  courtiers'  knees,  that  dream  on  court'sies  straight  • 
O'er  lawyers'  fingers,  who  straight  dream  on  fees ; 
O'er  ladies'  lips,  who  straight  on  kisses  dream. 
Sometimes  she  gallops  o'er  a  courtier's  nose, 
And  then  dreams  he  of  smelling  out  a  suit ; 


JOYOUS  STYLE.  271 

And  sometimes  comes  she  with  a  tithe-pig's  tail, 
Tickling  a  parson's  nose  as  he  lies  asleep, 
Then  dreams  he  of  another  benefice ; 
Sometimes  she  driveth  o'er  a  soldier's  neck, 
And  then  dreams  he  of  cutting  foreign  throats. 
Of  breaches,  ambuscadoes,  Spanish  blades, 
And  healths  five  fathoms  deep ;  and  then  anon 
Drums  in  his  ear,  at  which  he  starts  and  wakes ; 
And,  being  thus  frighted,  swears  a  prater  or  two, 
And  sleeps  again. 


272  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER    X. 

SUBLIME  STYLE. 

The  Sublime  Style  is  appropriate  for  tlie  delivery  of 
those  forms  of  thought  which  in  a  quiet  way  express 
sublimity,  grandeur,  reverence,  adoration,  devotion,  awe, 
amazement,  etc. 

In  Memoriam — A.  Lincoln. 

Mrs.  Emily  J.  Bugl?ee. 

1 .  There's  a  burden  of  grief  on  the  breezes  of  spring, 
And  a  song  of  regret  from  the  bird  on  its  wing ; 
There's  a  pall  on  the  sunshine  and  over  the  flowers, 
And  a  shadow  of  graves  on  these  spirits  of  ours ; 
For  a  star  hath  gone  out  from  the  night  of  our  sky, 

On  whose  brightness  we  gazed  as  the  war-cloud  rolled  by; 
So  tranquil  and  steady  and  clear  were  its  beams, 
That  they  fell  like  a  vision  of  peace  on  our  dreams. 

2.  A  heart  that  we  knew  had  been  true  to  our  weal. 
And  a  hand  that  was  steadily  guiding  the  wheel ; 
A  name  never  tarnished  by  falsehood  or  wrong. 

That  had  dwelt  in  our  hearts  like  a  soul-stirring  song ; 
Ah,  that  pure,  noble  spirit  has  gone  to  its  rest, 
And  the  true  hand  lies  nerveless  and  cold  on  his  breast ; 
But  the  name  and  the  memory,  these  never  will  die, 
But  grow  brighter  and  dearer  as  ages  go  by. 

3.  Yet  the  tears  of  a  nation  fall  over  the  dead, 
Such  tears  as  a  nation  before  never  shed. 

For  our  cherished  one  fell  by  a  dastardly  hand, 

A  martyr  to  truth  and  the  cause  of  the  land ; 

And  a  sorrow  has  surged,  like  the  waves  to  the  shore 

When  the  breath  of  the  tempest  is  sweeping  them  o'er; 

And  the  heads  of  the  lofty  and  lowly  have  bowed 

As  the  shaft  of  the  lightning  sped  out  from  the  cloud. 


SUBLIME   STYLE.  273 

4.  Not  gathered,  like  "Washington,  home  to  his  rest, 
"When  the  sun  of  his  life  was  far  down  in  the  west ; 
But  stricken  from  earth  in  the  midst  of  his  years, 
"With  the  Canaan  in  view,  of  liis  prayers  and  his  tears. 
And  the  people,  whose  hearts  in  the  wilderness  failed, 
Sometimes,  when  the  stars  of  their  promise  had  paled, 
Now  stand  by  his  side  on  the  mount  of  his  fame, 
And  yield  him  their  hearts  in  a  grateful  acclaim. 

5.  Yet  there  on  the  mountain  our  leader  must  die, 
With  the  fair  land  of  promise  spread  out  to  his  eye ; 
His  work  is  accomplished,  and  what  he  has  done 
"Will  stand  as  a  monument  under  the  sun ; 

And  his  name,  reaching  down  through  the  ages  of  time, 
"Will  still  through  the  years  of  eternity  shine. 
Like  a  star  sailing  on  through  the  depths  of  the  blue, 
On  whose  brightness  -we  gaze  every  evening  anew. 

6.  His  white  tent  is  pitched  on  the  beautiful  plain, 
"Where  the  tumult  of  battle  comes  never  again, 

"Where  the  smoke  of  the  war-cloud  ne'er  darkens  the  air, 
Nor  falls  on  the  spirit  a  shadow  of  care. 
The  songs  of  the  ransomed  enrapture  his  ear. 
And  he  heeds  not  the  dirges  that  roll  for  him  here ; 
In  the  calm  of  his  spirit,  so  strange  and  sublime, 
He  is  lifted  far  over  the  discords  of  time. 

*l.  Then  bear  him  home  gently,  great  son  of  the  "West ! 
'Mid  her  fair  blooming  prairies  lay  Lincoln  to  rest , 
From  the  nation  who  loved  him  she  takes  to  her  trust* 
And  will  tenderly  garner  the  consecrate  dust. 
A  Mecca  his  grave  to  the  people  shall  be. 
And  a  shrine  evermore  for  the  hearts  of  the  free. 


Break  !  Break  !  Break  I 

Tennyson. 

1.  Break,  break,  break, 

On  tliy  cold  gray  stones,  0  sea  I 
And  I  would  that  my  tongue  could  utter 
The  thoughts  that  arise  in  me. 
18 


274  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

2.  0  well  for  the  fisherman's  boy 

That  he  shouts  with  his  sister  at  play 
0  well  for  the  sailor  lad 

That  he  sings  in  his  boat  on  the  bay  I 

3.  And  the  stately  ships  go  on 

To  their  haven  under  the  hill ; 
But  0  for  the  touch  of  a  vanished  hand/ 
And  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still. 

4.  Break,  break,  break, 

At  the  foot  of  thy  crags,  0  sea  1 
But  the  tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is  dea<? 
Will  never  come  back  to  me. 


God. 

Derzhavin. 


1.  0  thou  eternal  One  I  whose  presence  bright 

All  space  doth  occupy,  all  motion  guide ;     • 
Unchanged  through  time's  all  devastating  flight  I 

Thou  only  God — there  is  no  God  beside  1 
Being  above  all  beings  I     Mighty  One, 

Whom  none  can  comprehend  and  none  explore , 
Who  fill'st  existence  with  thyself  alone, 

Embracing  all,  supporting,  ruling  o'er ; 

Being  whom  we  call  God,  and  know  no  more  1 

2.  In  its  sublime  research  philosophy 

May  measure  out  the  ocean  deep,  may  count 
The  sands  or  the  sun's  rays ;  but  God  1  for  thee 

There  is  no  weight  nor  measure  ;  none  can  mount 
Up  to  thy  mysteries ;  Reason's  brightest  spark, 

Though  kindled  by  thy  light,  in  vain  would  try 
To  trace  thy  counsels,  infinite  and  dark ; 

And  thought  is  lost  ere  thought  can  soar  so  high, 

Even  like  past  moments  in  eternity. 

3.  Thou  from  primeval  nothingness  didst  call 

First  chaos,  then  existence;  Lord,  on  thee 
Eternity  hath  its  foundation ;  all 
Sprung  forth  from  thee— of  light,  joy,  harmony, 


SUBLIME   STYLE.  275 

Sole  origin — all  life,  all  beauty  thine; 

Thy  word  created  all,  and  doth  create ; 
Thy  splendor  fills  all  space  with  rays  divine ; 

Thou  art  and  wert  and  shalt  be  1     Grlorious  I     Great ! 

Light-giving,  life-sustaining  Potentate  I 

4.  Thy  chains  the  unmeasured  universe  surround — 

Upheld  by  thee,  by  thee  inspired  with  breath  I 
Thou  the  beginning  with  the  end  hast  bound, 

And  beautifully  mingled  life  and  death ! 
As  sparks  mount  upward  from  the  fiery  blaze, 

So  suns  are  born,  so  worlds  spring  forth  from  thee ; 
And  as  the  spangles  in  the  sunny  rays 

Shine  round  the  silver  snow,  the  pageantry 
Of  heaven's  bright  army  glitters  in  thy  praise. 

5.  A  million  torches,  hghted  by  thy  hand, 

Wander  unwearied  through  the  blue  abyss — 
They  own  thy  power,  accomplish  thy  command, 

All  gay  with  life,  all  eloquent  with  bliss. 
"What  shall  we  call  them  ?     Piles  of  crystal  light — 

A  glorious  company  of  golden  streams — 
Lamps  of  celestial  ether  burning  bright — 

Suns  lighting  systems  with  their  joyous  beams  ? 
But  thou  to  these  art  as  the  noon  to  night. 

6.  Yes,  as  a  drop  of  water  in  the  sea. 

All  this  magnificence  in  thee  is  lost : 
"What  are  ten  thousand  worlds  compared  to  thee  ? 

And  what  am  I  then  ?     Heaven's  unnumbered  host, 
Though  multiplied  by  myriads,  and  arrayed 

In  all  the  glory  of  sublimest  thought. 
Is  but  an  atom  in  the  balance,  weighed 

Against  thy  greatness — is  a  cipher  brought 

Against  infinity  1     What  am  I  then  ?    Naught  I 

t.  Naught  1     But  the  effluence  of  thy  light  divine, 
Pervading  worlds,  hath  reached  my  bosom  too ; 

Yes,  in  my  spirit  doth  thy  spirit  shine 
As  shines  the  sunbeam  in  a  drop  of  dew. 

Naught  1     But  I  live,  and  on  hope's  pinions  fly 
Eager  toward  thy  presence  ;  for  in  thee 

I  live  and  breathe  and  dwell ;  aspiring  high, 


276  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Even  to  the  throne  of  thy  divinity. 

I  am,  0  God  I  and  surely  thou  must  be. 

8.  Thou  art — directing,  guiding  all — thou  art  I 

Direct  my  understanding  then  to  thee ; 
Control  my  spirit,  guide  my  wandering  heart; 

Though  but  an  atom  'midst  immensity, 
Still  I  am  something,  fashioned  by  thy  band. 

I  hold  a  middle  rank  'twixt  heaven  and  earth, 
On  the  last  verge  of  mortal  being  stand, 

Close  to  the  realms  where  angels  have  their  birth 
Just  on  the  boundaries  of  the  spirit-land  I 

9.  The  chain  of  being  is  complete  in  me, 

In  me  is  matter's  last  gradation  lost, 
And  the  next  step  is  spirit — Deity  1 

I  can  command  the  lightning,  and  am  dust  I 
A  monarch  and  a  slave,  a  worm,  a  godl 

Whence  came  I  here,  and  how  ?  so  marvelously 
Constructed  and  conceived  ?  unknown  I  this  clod 

Lives  surely  through  some  higher  energy ; 

For  from  itself  alone  it  could  not  be  I 

10.  Creator,  yes.     Thy  wisdom  and  thy  word 

Created  me.     Thou  source  of  life  and  good. 
Thou  spirit  of  my  spirit,  and  my  Lord, 

Thy  hght,  thy  love,  in  their  bright  plenitude 
Filled  me  with  an  immortal  soul,  to  sprmg 

Over  the  abyss  of  death,  and  bade  it  wear 
The  garments  of  eternal  day,  and  wing 

Its  heavenly  flight  beyond  this  little  spnere, 

Even  to  its  source — to  thee — its  Author  there. 

11.  0  thoughts  ineffable  I  0  visions  blest ! 

Though  v/orthless  our  conceptions  all  of  thee, 
Yet  shall  thy  shadowed  image  fill  our  breast, 

And  waft  its  homage  to  thy  Deity. 
God !  thus  alone  my  lowly  thoughts  can  soar, 

Thus  seek  thy  presence — Being  wise  and  good ! 
'Midst  thy  vast  works  admire,  obey,  adore ; 

And  when  the  tongue  is  eloquent  no  more 

The  soul  shall  speak  in  tears  of  gratitude. 


SUBLIME  STYLE.  27 

God's  Fiest  Tempi  es. 

Bryant. 

1.  The  groves  were  God's  first  temples.     Ero  man  learned 
To  hew  the  shaft,  and  lay  the  architrave, 

And  spread  the  roof  above  them,  ere  he  framed 

The  lofty  vault,  to  gather  and  roll  back 

The  sound  of  anthems,  in  the  darkling  wood, 

Amidst  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down 

And  offered  to  the  Mightiest  solemn  thanks 

And  supplication.     For  his  simple  heart 

Might  not  resist  the  sacred  influences 

That,  from  the  stilly  twilight  of  the  place, 

And  from  the  gray  old  trunks,  that,  high  in  heaven, 

Mingled  their  mossy  boughs,  and  from  the  sound 

Of  the  invisible  breath,  that  swayed  at  once 

All  their  green  tops,  stole  over  him,  and  bowed 

His  spirit  with  the  thought  of  boundless  Power 

And  inaccessible  Majesty.     Ah,  why 

Should  we,  in  the  world's  riper  years,  neglect 

God's  ancient  sanctuaries,  and  adore 

Only  among  the  crowd,  and  under  roofs 

That  our  frail  hands  have  raised  ?    Let  me,  at  least, 

Here,  in  the  shadow  of  the  aged  wood. 

Offer  one  hymn ;  thrice  happy,  if  it  find 

Acceptance  in  his  ear. 

2.  Father,  thy  hand 
Hath  reared  these  venerable  columns :  thou 

Didst  weave  this  verdant  roof.     Thou  didst  look  down 
Upon  the  naked  earth,  and  forthwith  rose 
All  these  fair  ranks  of  trees.     They  in  thy  sun 
Budded,  and  shook  their  green  leaves  in  thy  breeze. 
And  shot  toward  heaven.     The  century-living  crow, 
Whose  birth   was  in  their  tops,  grew  old  and  died 
Among  their  branches,  till  at  last  they  stood. 
As  now  they  stand,  massy  and  tall  and  dark, 
Fit  shrine  for  humble  worshiper  to  hold 
Communion  with  his  Maker. 

3.  Here  are  see^x 
No  traces  of  man's  pomp  or  pride  ;  no  silks 
Rustle,  no  jewels  shine,  nor  envious  eyes 


278  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Encounter ;  no  fantastic  carvings  show 

The  boast  of  our  vain  race  to  change  the  form 

Of  thy  fair  works.     But  thou  art  here ;  thou  fiUest 

The  sohtude.     Thou  art  in  the  soft  winds 

That  run  along  the  summits  of  these  trees 

In  music ;  thou  art  in  tlie  cooler  breath, 

That,  from  the  inmost  darkness  of  the  place, 

Comes,  scarcely  felt ;  the  barky  trunks,  the  ground, 

The  fresh,  moist  ground,  are  all  instinct  with  thee. 

4.  Here  is  continual  worship ;  nature  here, 
In  the  tranqTiillity  that  thou  dost  love. 
Enjoys  thy  presence.     Noiselessly  around, 
From  perch  to  perch  the  solitary  bird 
Passes ;  and  yon  clear  spring,  that,  'midst  its  herbs^ 
Wells  softly  forth,  and  visits  the  strong  roots 
Of  half  the  mighty  forest,  tells  no  tale 
Of  all  the  good  it  does. 

6.  Thou  hast  not  left 

Thyself  without  a  witness,  in  these  shades. 
Of  thy  perfections.     Grandeur,  strength  and  grace 
Are  here  to  speak  of  thee.     This  mighty  oak — 
By  whose  immovable  stem  I  stand,  and  seem 
Almost  annihilated — not  a  prince. 
In  all  the  proud  old  world  beyond  the  deep, 
Ere  wore  his  crown  as  loftily  as  he 
We-^rs  the  green  coronal  of  leaves  with  which 
Thy  hand  has  graced  him.     Nestled  at  his  root 
Is  beauty,  such  as  blooms  not  in  the  glare 
Of  the  broad  sun.     That  delicate  forest  flower, 
With  scented  breath,  and  looks  so  like  a  smile, 
Seems,  as  it  issues  from  the  shapeless  mold, 
An  emanation  of  the  indwelling  life, 
A  visible  token  of  the  upholding  love. 
That  are  the  soul  of  this  wide  universe. 

6.  My  heart  is  awed  within  me  when  I  think 
Of  the  great  miracle  that  still  goes  on, 
In  silence,  round  me — the  perpetual  work 
Of  thy  creation,  finished,  yet  renewed 
Forever.     Written  on  thy  works  I  read 
The  lesson  of  thy  own  eternity. 


SUBLIME   STYLE.  279 

Lo  1  all  grow  old  and  die ;  but  see,  again, 
How,  on  the  faltering  footsteps  of  decay. 
Youth  presses — ever  gay  and  beautiful  youth — 
In  all  its  beautiful  forms.     These  lofty  trees 
"Wave  not  less  proudly  that  their  ancestors 
Molder  beneath  them. 

0  there  is  not  lost 
One  of  earth's  charms :  upon  her  bosom  yet, 
After  the  flight  of  untold  centuries, 
The  freshness  of  her  far  beginning  lies, 
And  yet  shall  lie.     Life  mocks  the  idle  hate 
Of  his  arch  enemy  Death ;  yea,  seats  himself 
Upon  the  sepulcher,  and  blooms  and  smiles, 
And  of  the  triumphs  of  his  ghastly  foe 
Makes  his  own  nourishment.     For  he  came  forth 
From  thine  own  bosom,  and  shall  have  no  end. 

There  have  been  holy  men  who  hid  themselves 

Deep  in  the  woody  wilderness,  and  gave 

Their  lives  to  thought  and  prayer,  till  they  outlived 

The  generation  born  with  them,  nor  seemed 

Less  aged  than  the  hoary  trees  and  rocks 

Around  them ;  and  there  have  been  holy  men 

Who  deemed  it  were  not  well  to  pass  life  thus. 

But  let  me  often  to  these  solitudes 

Retire,  and,  in  thy  presence,  re-assure 

My  feeble  virtue.     Here,  its  enemies. 

The  passions,  at  thy  plainer  footsteps,  shrink, 

And  tremble,  and  are  still. 

0  God,  when  thou 
Dost  scare  the  world  with  tempests,  s'vt  on  fire 
The  heavens  with  falling  thunderbolts,  or  fill, 
With  all  the  waters  of  the  firmament, 
The  swift,  dark  whirlwind,  that  uproots  the  woods 
And  drowns  the  villages ;  when,  at  thy  call, 
Uprises  the  great  deep,  and  throws  himself 
Upon  the  continent,  and  overwhelms 
Its  cities ;  who  forgets  not,  at  the  sight 
Of  these  tremendous  tokens  of  thy  power, 
His  pride,  and  lays  his  strifes  and  follies  by  I 
O  from  these  sterner  aspects  of  thy  face 


280  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Spare  me  and  mine  ;  nor  let  us  need  the  wrath 
Of  the  mad,  unchained  elements,  to  teach 
Who  rules  them.     Be  it  ours  to  meditate, 
In  these  calm  shades,  thy  milder  majesty, 
And  to  the  beautiful  order  of  thy  works 
Learn  to  conform  the  order  of  our  lives. 


The  Closing  Year. 

Prentice. 


'Tis  midnight's  holy  hour,  and  silence  now 

Is  brooding,  like  a  gentle  spirit,  o'er 

The  still  and  pulseless  world.     Hark  1  on  the  wmds 

The  bell's  deep  tones  are  swelling — 'tis  the  kuell 

Of  the  departed  year.     No  funeral  train 

Is  sweeping  past ;  yet,  on  the  stream  and  wood, 

With  melancholy  light,  the  moonbeams  rest 

Like  a  pale,  spotless  shroud ;  the  air  is  stirred 

As  by  a  mourner's  sigh ;  and  on  yon  cloud, 

That  floats  so  still  and  placidly  through  heaven, 

The  spirits  of  the  seasons  seem  to  stand. 

Young  Spring,  bright  Summer,  Autumn's  solemn  form, 

And  Winter  with  his  aged  locks,  and  breathe, 

In  mournful  cadences,  that  come  abroad 

Like  the  far  wind-harp's  wild  and  touching  wail, 

A  melancholy  dirge  o'er  the  dead  year. 

Gone  from  the  earth  forever. 

'Tis  a  time 
For  memory  and  for  tears.     Within  the  deep, 
Still  chambers  of  the  heart,  a  specter  dim, 
Whose  tones  are  like  the  wizard  voice  of  Time, 
Heard  from  the  tomb  of  ages,  points  its  cold 
And  solemn  finger  to  the  beautiful 
And  holy  visions  that  have  passed  away. 
And  left  no  shadow  of  their  lovehnesa 
On  the  dead  waste  of  life.    That  specter  lifls 
The  cofl&n-lid  of  Hope  and  Joy  and  Love, 
And,  bending  mournfully  above  the  pale, 
Sweet  forms,  that  slumber  there,  scatters  dead  flowers 
O'er  what  has  passed  to  nothingness. 


SUBLIME   STYLE.  281 

3.  The  year 

Has  gone,  and  with  it  many  a  glorious  throng 
Of  happy  dreams.     Its  mark  is  on  each  brow, 
Its  shadow  in  each  heart.     In  its  swift  course 
It  waved  its  scepter  o'er  the  beautiful — 
And  they  are  not.     It  laid  its  pallid  hand 
Upon  the  strong  man — and  the  haughty  form 
Is  fallen,  and  the  flashing  eye  is  dim. 
It  trod  the  hall  of  revelry,  where  thronged 
The  bright  and  joyous — and  the  tearful  wail 
Of  stricken  ones  is  heard,  where  erst  the  song 
And  reckless  shout  resounded. 

4  It  passed  o'er 

The  battle-plain,  where  sword  and  spear  and  shield 
Flashed  in  the  light  of  mid-day — and  the  strength 
Of  serried  hosts  is  shivered,  and  the  grass, 
G-reen  from*  the  soil  of  carnage,  waves  above 
The  crushed  and  moldering  skeleton.     It  came, 
And  faded  like  a  wreath  of  mist  at  eve ; 
Yet,  ere  it  melted  in  the  viewless  air, 
It  heralded  its  milHons  to  their  home 
In  the  dim  land  of  dreams. 

5.  Remorseless  Time  I 
Fierce  spirit  of  the  glass  and  scythe  1  what  power 
Can  stay  him  in  his  silent  course,  or  melt 

His  iron  heart  to  pity  ?     On,  still  on 

He  presses,  and  forever.     The  proud  bird, 

The  condor  of  the  Andes,  that  can  soar 

Through  heaven's  unfathomable  depths,  or  brave 

The  fury  of  the  northern  hurricane, 

And  bathe  his  plumage  in  the  thunder's  home, 

Furls  his  broad  wings  at  nightfall,  and  sinks  down 

To  rest  upon  his  mountain  crag ;  but  Time 

Knows  not  the  weight  of  sleep  or  weariness, 

And  night's  deep  darkness  has  no  chain  to  bind 

His  rushing  pinions. 

6.  Revolutions  sweep 

O'er  earth,  like  troubled  visions  o'er  the  breast 
Of  dreaming  sorrow ;  cities  rise  and  sink, 
Like  bubbles  on  the  water ;  fiery  isles 


282  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION* 

Spring  blazing  from  the  ocean,  and  go  back 
To  tlieir  mysterious  caverns ;  mountains  rear 
To  heaven  their  bald  and  blackened  cliffs,  and  bow 
Q'heir  tall  heads  to  the  plain  ;  new  empires  rise, 
Gathering  the  strength  of  hoary  centuries, 
,    And  rush  down  like  the  Alpine  avalanche, 
Startling  the  nations,  and  the  very  stars, 
Yon  bright  and  burning  blazonry  of  God, 
Glitter  awhile  in  their  eternal  depths, 
And,  like  the  Pleiad,  loveliest  of  their  train, 
Shoot  from  their  glorious  spheres,  and  pass  away 
To  darkle  in  the  trackless  void :  yet  Time — 
Time,  the  tomb-builder,  holds  his  fierce  career, 
Dark,  stern,  all-pitiless,  and  pauses  not 
Amid  the  mighty  wrecks  that  strew  his  path, 
To  sit  and  muse,  like  other  conquerors, 
Upon  the  fearful  ruin  he  has  wrought. 


MoEKiNG  Hymn  to  Mont  Blanc. 

Coleridge. 

1.  Hast  thou  a  charm  to  stay  the  morning  star 

In  his  steep  course  ?  so  long  he  seems  to  pause 
On  thy  bald,  awful  head,  0  sovereign  Blanc  I 
The  Arve  and  Aveiron  at  thy  base 
Rave  ceaselessly ;  but  thou,  most  awful  form  I 
Risest  forth  from  thy  silent  sea  of  pines. 
How  silently  1     Around  thee  and  above 
Deep  is  the  air  and  dark,  substantial  black, 
An  ebon  mass ;  methinks  thou  piercest  it. 
As  with  a  wedge !     But  when  I  look  again. 
It  is  thine  own  calm  home,  thy  crystal  shrine. 
Thy  habitation  from  eternity  I 

2.  0  dread  and  silent  mount  1     I  gazed  upon  thee, 
TiU  thou,  still  present  to  the  bodily  sense. 

Didst  vanish  from  my  thought :  entranced  in  prayer 

I  worshiped  the  Invisible  alone. 

Yet  like  some  sweet,  beguiling  melody, 

So  sweet,  we  know  not  we  are  listening  to  it, 

Thou,  the  meanwhile,  wast  blending  with  my  thoughts. 


SUBLIME  STYLE.  288 

Yea,  with  my  life,  and  life's  own  secret  joy — 
Till  the  dilating  soul,  en  rapt,  transfused, 
Into  the  mighty  vision  passing — there, 
As  in  her  natural  form,  swelled  vast  to  Heaven. 

3.  Awake,  my  soul !  not  only  passive  praise 
Thou  owest — not  alone  these  swelling  tears, 
Mute  thanks  and  secret  ecstasy.     Awake, 
Voice  of  sweet  song  I     Awake,  my  heart,  awake  I 
Green  vales  and  icy  cliffs  all  join  my  hymn. 
Thou  first  and  chief,  sole  sovereign  of  the  vale ! 
0,  struggling  with  the  darkness  all  the  night, 
And  visited  all  night  by  troops  of  stars, 

Or  when  they  climb  the  sky,  or  when  they  sink: 
Companion  of  the  morning-star  at  dawn, 
Thyself,  earth's  rosy  star,  and  of  the  dawn 
Co-herald  1  wake,  0  wake,  and  utter  praise. 
"Who  sank  thy  sunless  pillars  deep  in  earth  ? 
Who  filled  thy  countenance  with  rosy  light  ? 
Who  made  thee  parent  of  perpetual  streams  ? 

4.  And  you,  ye  five  wild  torrents  fiercely  glad! 
Who  called  you  forth  from  night  and  utter  death, 
From  dark  and  icy  caverns  called  you  forth, 
Down  those  precipitous,  black,  jagged  rocks. 
Forever  shattered  and  the  same  forever  ? 

Who  gave  you  your  invulnerable  life. 

Your  strength,  your  speed,  your  fury,  and  your  joy, 

Unceasing  thunder  and  eternal  foam  ? 

And  who  commanded,  and  the  silence  came, 

"  Here  let  the  billows  stiffen,  and  have  rest  ?  " 

6.  Ye  ice-falls  1  ye  that  from  the  mountain's  brow 
Adown  enormous  ravines  slope  amain — 
Torrents,  methinks,  that  heard  a  mighty  voice. 
And  stopped  at  once  amid  their  maddest  plunge  I 
Motionless  torrents  !  silent  cataracts  1 
Who  made  you  glorious  as  the  gates  of  heaven 
Beneath  the  keen  full  moon  ?    Who  bade  the  sun 
Clothe  you  with  rainbows  ?    Who  with  living  flowers 
Of  loveliest  blue,  spread  garlands  at  your  feet  ? 
"  God  1 "  let  the  torrents,  like  a  shout  of  nations, 
Answer,  and  let  the  ice-plains  echo,  "  God  I  " 


284  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

6.  "God!"  sing,  ye  meadow-streams,  with  gladsome  voice  1 
Te  pine-groves,  with  your  soft  and  soul-like  sounds  I 
And  they,  too,  have  a  voice,  yon  piles  of  snow, 

And  in  their  perilous  fall  shall  thunder,  "  Grod  I  " 
Te  living  flowers  that  skirt  the  eternal  frost  I 
Te  wild  goats  sporting  round  the  eagle's  nest! 
Te  eagles,  playmates  of  the  mountain  storm  1 
Te  lightnings,  the  dread  arrows  of  the  clouds  I 
Te  signs  and  wonders  of  the  elements  1 
Utter  forth  "  God  1 "  and  fill  the  hills  with  praise. 

7.  Once  more,  hoar  mount,  with  thy  sky-pointing  peak, 
Oft  from  whose  feet  the  avalanche,  unheard. 
Shoots  downward,  glittering  through  the  pure  serene, 
Into  the  depth  of  clouds  that  vail  thy  breast, 

Thou,  too,  again,  stupendous  mountain  1  thou. 

That,  as  I  raise  my  head,  awhile  bowed  down 

In  adoration,  upward  from  thy  base 

Slow  traveling,  with  dim  eyes  suffused  with  tears, 

Solemnly  seemest,  like  a  vapory  cloud, 

To  rise  before  me — rise,  0  ever  rise ! 

Bise,  like  a  cloud  of  incense,  from  the  earth. 

Thou  kingly  spirit  throned  among  the  hills. 

Thou  dread  embassador  from  earth  to  heaven, 

Great  hierarch !  tell  thou  the  silent  sky, 

And  tell  the  stars,  and  tell  yon  rising  sun, 

Earth,  with  her  thousand  voices,  praises  God. 


ORATORICAL  STYLE.  235 


CHAPTER    Xr. 

ORATORICAL  STYLE. 

The  Oratorical  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  delivery  of 
speeches,  senatorial,  political  and  judicial,  orations  and 
sermons,  in  which  the  object  is  not  only  to  enlighten  the 
understanding,  but  to  influence  the  will  and  arouse  the 
emotions  and  passions. 

Reply  to  Mr.  Wickham  in  Burr's  Trial,  1807. 

William  Wirt. 

1.  In  proceedinp^  to  answer  the  argument  of  the  gentleman,  I  wiL 
treat  him  with  candor.  If  I  misrepresent  him,  it  will  not  be  inten- 
tional. I  will  not  follow  the  example  which  he  has  set  me  on  a 
very  recent  occasion.  I  will  endeavor  to  meet  the  gentleman's  propo- 
sitions in  their  full  force,  and  to  answer  them  fairly.  I  will  not,  as  I 
am  advancing  toward  them,  with  my  mind's  eye  measure  the  height, 
breadth  and  power  of  the  proposition  ;  if  I  find  it  bej^ond  my  strength, 
halve  it ;  if  stiU  beyond  my  strength,  quarter  it ;  if  still  necessary, 
subdivide  it  into  eights ;  and  when,  by  this  process,  I  have  reduced 
it  to  the  proper  standard,  take  one  of  these  sections  and  toss  it  with 
an  air  of  elephantine  strength  and  superiority.  If  I  find  myself  capa- 
ble of  conducting,  by  a  fair  course  of  reasoning,  any  one  of  his  propo- 
sitions to  an  absurd  conclusion,  I  will  not  begin  by  stating  that  absurd 
conclusion  as  the  proposition  itself  which  I  am  going  to  encounter. 
I  will  not,  in  commenting  on  the  gentleman's  authorities,  thank  the 
gentleman,  v/ith  sarcastic  politeness,  for  introducing  them,  declare 
that  they  conclude  directly  against  him,  read  just  so  much  of  the 
authority  as  serves  the  purpose  of  that  declaration,  omitting  that 
which  contains  the  true  point  of  the  case,  which  makes  against  me; 
nor,  if  forced  by  a  direct  call  to  read  that  part  also,  will  I  content 
myself  by  running  over  it  as  rapidly  and  inarticulately  as  I  can,  throw 
down  the  book  with  a  theatrical  air,  and  exclaim,  "  Just  as  I  said  1 " 
when  I  know  it  is  just  as  I  had  not  said. 


286  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

2.  I  know  that,  by  adopting  these  arts,  I  might  raise  a  laugh  at  the 
gentleman's  expense ;  but  I  should  be  very  little  pleased  with  myself 
if  I  were  capable  of  enjoying  a  laugh  procured  by  such  means.  I 
know,  too,  that,  by  adopting  such  arts,  there  will  always  be  those 
standing  around  us  who  have  not  comprehended  the  whole  merits  of 
the  legal  discussion,  with  whom  I  might  shake  the  character  of  the 
gentleman's  science  and  judgment  as  a  lawyer.  I  hope  I  shall  never 
be  capable  of  such  a  wish ;  and  I  had  hoped  that  the  gentleman  him- 
self felt  so  strongly  that  proud,  that  high,  aspiring  and  ennobling 
magnanimity,  which  I  had  been  told  conscious  talents  rarely  fail  to 
mspire,  that  he  would  have  disdained  a  poor  and  fleeting  triumph 
gained  by  means  like  these. 


Aristocracy. 

Edb&rt  B,  Livingston. 


1.  The  gentleman,  who  has  so  copiously  declaimed  against  all  dec- 
lamation, has  pointed  his  artillery  against  the  rich  and  great.  We 
are  told  that  in  every  country  there  is  a  natural  aristocracy,  and  that 
this  aristocracy  consists  of  the  rich  and  the  great.  Nay,  the  gentle- 
man goes  further,  and  ranks  in  this  class  of  men  the  wise,  the  learned, 
and  those  eminent  for  their  talents  or  great  virtues.  Does  a  man 
possess  the  confidence  of  his  fellow- citizens  for  having  done  them 
important  services?  He  is  an  aristocrat.  Has  he  great  integrity? 
He  is  an  aristocrat.  Indeed,  to  determine  that  one  is  an  aristocrat, 
we  need  only  to  be  assured  that  he  is  a  man  of  merit.  But  I  hope 
we  may  have  such.  So  sensible  am  I  of  that  gentleman's  talents,  in- 
tegrity and  virtue,  that  we  might  at  once  hail  him  the  first  of  the 
nobles,  the  very  prince  of  the  Senate. 

2.  But  whom,  in  the  name  of  common  sense,  would  the  gentleman 
have  to  represent  us  ?  Not  the  rich,  for  they  are  sheer  aristocrats. 
Not  the  learned,  the  wise,  the  virtuous ;  for  they  are  all  aristocrats  I 
Whom  then  ?  Why,  those  who  are  not  virtuous ;  those  who  are  not 
wise ;  those  who  are  not  learned ;  these  are  the  men  to  whom  alone 
we  can  trust  our  liberties  1  He  says  further,  we  ought  not  to  choose 
aristocrats,  because  the  people  will  not  have  confidence  in  them. 
That  is  to  say,  the  people  will  not  have  confidence  in  those  who  best 
deserve  and  most  possess  their  confidence.  He  would  have  his  gov- 
ernment composed  of  other  classes  of  men.  Where  will  he  find 
them  ?  Why,  he  must  go  forth  into  the  highways  and  pick  up  the 
rogue  and  the  robber.     He  must  go  to  the  hedges  and  the  ditches 


OEATORICAL  STYLE.  287 

and  bring  in  the  poor,  the  blind  and  the  lame.  As  the  gentleman  has 
thus  settled  the  definition  of  aristocracy,  I  trust  that  no  man  will 
think  it  a  term  of  reproach,  for  who  among  us  would  not  be  wise? 
who  would  not  be  virtuous  ?  who  would  not  be  above  want  ?  The 
truth  is,  in  these  republican  governments  we  know  no  such  ideal  dis- 
tinctions. We  are  all  equally  aristocrats.  Officers,  emoluments, 
honors,  the  roads  to  preferment  and  to  wealth,  are  alike  open  to  all. 


The  Geneeal  Government  and  the  States. 

Alexander  Hamilton. 

1.  Mr.  Chairman,  it  has  been  advanced  as  a  principle  that  no  gov- 
ernment but  a  despotism  can  exist  in  a  very  extensive  country.  This 
is  a  melancholy  consideration  indeed.  If  it  were  founded  on  truth, 
we  ought  to  dismiss  the  idea  of  a  republican  government,  even  for  the 
State  of  New  York.  But  the  position  has  been  misapprehended.  Its 
application  relates  only  to  democracies,  where  the  body  of  the  people 
meet  to  transact  business,  and  where  representation  is  unknown. 
The  application  is  wrong  in  respect  to  all  representative  governments, 
but  especially  in  relation  to  a  confederacy  of  States,  in  which  the  su- 
preme legislature  has  only  general  powers,  and  the  civil  and  domestic 
concerns  of  the  people  are  regulated  by  the  laws  of  the  several  States. 
I  insist  that  it  never  can  be  the  interest  or  desire  of  the  national  legis- 
lature to  destroy  the  State  governments.  The  blow  aimed  at  the 
members  must  give  a  fatal  wound  to  the  head,  and  the  destruction  of 
the  States  must  be  at  once  a  political  suicide.  But  imagine,  for  a 
moment,  that  a  political  frenzy  should  seize  the  government ;  suppose 
they  should  make  the  attempt.  Certainly,  sir,  it  would  be  forever 
impracticable.  This  has  been  sufficiently  demonstrated  by  reason  and 
experience.  It  has  been  proved  that  the  members  of  republics  have 
been  and  ever  will  be  stronger  than  the  head.  Let  us  attend  to  one 
general  historical  example. 

2.  In  the  ancient  feudal  governments  of  Europe  there  was,  in  the 
first  place,  a  monarch ;  subordinate  to  him  a  body  of  nobles,  and  sub- 
ject to  these  the  vassals,  or  the  whole  body  of  the  people.  The  au- 
thority of  the  kings  wa^  limited,  and  that  of  the  barons  considerably 
independent.  The  histories  of  the  feudal  wars  exhibit  little  mora 
than  a  series  af  successful  encroachments  on  the  prerogatives  of 
monarchy. 

3.  Here,  sir,  is  one  great  proof  of  the  superiority  which  the  mem* 
bers  in  Umited  governments  possess  oyer  their  head.    As  long  as  the 


288  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

barons  enjoyed  tie  confidence  and  attachment  of  the  people,  they  had 
the  strength  of  the  country  on  their  side,  and  were  irresistible.  1 
may  be  told  m  some  instances  the  barons  were  overcome ;  but  how 
did  this  happen  ?  Sir,  they  took  advantage  of  the  depression  of  the 
royal  authority,  and  tlie  establishment  of  their  own  power,  to  oppress 
and  tyrannize  over  their  vassals.  As  commerce  enlarged  and  wealth 
and  civilization  increased,  the  people  began  to  feel  their  own  weight 
and  consequence;  they  grew  tired  of  their  oppressions;  united  their 
strength  with  that  of  the  prince,  and  threw  off  the  yoke  of  aristoc- 
racy. These  very  instances  prove  what  I  contend  for.  They  prove 
that  in  whatever  direction  the  popular  weight  leans,  the  current  of 
power  will  flow ;  whatever  the  popular  attachments  be,  there  will 
rest  the  political  superiority. 


Patriotic  Self-Sacrifice.  ' 

Clay. 

1.  I  rose  not  to  say  one  word  which  would  wound  the  feelings  of 
the  President.  The  senator  says  that,  if  placed  in  like  circumstances, 
I  would  have  been  the  last  man  to  avoid  putting  a  direct  veto  upon 
the  bill  had  it  met  my  disapprobation,  and  he  does  me  the  honor  to 
attribute  to  me  high  qualities  of  stern  and  unbending  intrepidity.  I 
hope  that  in  all  that  relates  to  personal  firmness,  all  that  concerns  a 
just  appreciation  of  the  insignificance  of  human  Hfe — whatever  may 
be  attempted  to  threaten  or  alarm  a  soul  not  easily  swayed  by  oppo- 
sition, or  awed  or  intimidated  by  menace — a  stout  heart  and  a  steady 
eye  that  can  survey,  unmoved  and  undaunted,  any  mere  personal 
perils  that  assail  this  poor,  transient,  perishing  frame — I  may,  with- 
out disparagement,  compare  with  other  men. 

2.  But  there  is  a  sort  of  courage  which,  I  frankly  confess,  I  do  not 
possess  ;  a  boldness  to  which  I  dare  not  aspire ;  a  valor  which  I  can- 
not f^ovet.  I  cannot  lay  myself  down  in  the  way  of  the  welfare  and 
happiness  of  my  country.  That  I  caimot — I  have  not  the  courage  to 
do.  I  cannot  interpose  the  power  with  which  I  may  be  invested — a 
power  conferred,  not  for  my  personal  benefit,  not  for  my  aggrandize- 
ment, but  for  my  country's  good — to  check  her  onward  march  to 
greatness  and  glory.  I  have  not  courage  enough,  I  am  too  cowardly, 
for  that.  I  would  not,  I  dare  not,  in  the  exercise  of  such  a  trust,  lie 
down  and  place  my  body  across  the  path  that  leads  my  country  to 
prosperity  and  happiness.  This  is  a  sort  of  courage  widely  different 
from  that  which  a  man  may  display  in  his  private  conduct  and  private 


ORAl'ORICAL  STYLE.  289 

relations.  Personal  or  private  courage  is  totally  distinct  from  that 
higher  and  nobler  courage  which  prompts  the  patriot  to  offer  himself 
a  voluntary  sacrifice  to  his  country's  good. 


Ambition  of  a  Statesman. 

Clay. 

1.  I  have  been'  accused  of  ambition  in  presenting  this  measure — 
ambition,  inordinate  ambition.  If  I  had  thought  of  myself  only  I 
Buould  have  never  brought  it  forward.  I  know  well  the  perils  to 
which  I  expose  myself — the  risk  of  alienating  faithful  and  valued 
friends,  with  but  little  prospect  of  making  new  ones,  if  any  new  ones 
could  compensate  for  the  loss  of  those  we  have  long  tried  and  loved ; 
end  I  know  well  the  honest  misconception  both  of  friends  and  foes. 
Ambition  1  If  I  had  listened  to  its  soft  and  seducing  whispers,  if  1 
had  yielded  myself  to  the  dictates  of  a  cold,  calculating  and  pruden- 
tial policy,  I  would  have  stood  still  and  unmoved.  T  might  even  have 
FUently  gazed  on  the  raging  storm,  enjoyed  its  loudest  thunders,  and 
kft  those  who  are  charged  with  the  care  of  the  vessel  of  State  to  con- 
duct it  as  they  could. 

2.  I  have  been  heretofore  often  unjustly  accused  of  ambition.  Low, 
groveling  souls,  who  are  utterly  incapable  of  elevating  themselves  to 
the  higher  and  nobler  duties  of  pure  patriotism — beings  who,  forever 
keeping  their  own  selfish  ends  in  view,  decide  all  public  measures  by 
their  presumed  influence  or  their  aggrandizement — ^judge  me  by  the 
venal  rule  which  they  prescribe  to  themselves.  I  have  given  to  the 
winds  those  false  accusations,  as  I  consign  that  whicli  now  impeaches 
my  motives.  I  have  no  desire  for  office,  not  even  the  highest.  The 
most  exalted  is  but  a  prison,  in  which  the  incarcerated  incumbent 
daily  receives  his  cold,  heartless  visitants,  marks  his  weary  hours, 
and  is  cut  off  from  the  practical  enjoyment  of  all  the  blessings  .of 
genuine  freedom. 

3.  I  am  no  candidate  for  any  office  in  the  gift  of  the  people  of  these 
States,  united  or  separated ;  I  never  wish,  never  expect,  to  be.  Pas? 
this  bill,  tranquilize  the  country,  restore  confidence  and  affection  in 
the  Union,  and  I  am  willing  to  go  home  to  Ashland  and  renounce 
public  service  forever.  I  should  there  find  in  its  groves,  under  its 
shades,  on  its  lawns,  *mid  my  flocks  and  herds,  in  the  bosom  of  my 
family,  sincerity  and  truth,  attachment  and  fidelity  and  gratitude, 
which  I  have  not  always  found  in  the  walks  of  public  life.  Yes,  I 
have  ambition;  but  it  is  the  ambition  of  being  the  humble  instru- 

19 


290  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

ment,  in  the  hands  of  Providence,  to  reconcile  a  divided  people:  once 
more  to  revive  concord  and  harmony  in  a  distracted  lacd— the  pleas- 
ing ambition  of  contemplating  the  glorious  spectacle  of  a  free,  united, 
prosperous  and  fraternal  people. 


National  Character. 

Maxey. 

1.  The  loss  of  a  firm  national  character,  or  the  degradation  ot  a 
nation's  honor,  is  the  inevitable  prelude  to  her  destruction.  Behold 
the  once  proud  fabric  of  a  Roman  empire — an  empire  carrying  its  arts 
and  arms  into  every  part  of  the  eastern  continent ;  the  monarchs  of 
mighty  kiugdoms  dragged  at  the  wheels  of  her  triumphal  chariots ; 
her  eagle  waving  over  the  ruins  of  desolated  countries.  Where  is 
her  splendor,  her  wealth,  her  power,  her  glory?  Extinguished 
forever.  Her  moldering  temples,  the  mournful  vestiges  of  her 
former  grandeur,  afford  a  shelter  to  her  muttering  monks.  "Where 
are  her  statesmen,  her  sages,  her  philosophers,  her  orators,  her  gen- 
erals ?  Gro  to  their  solitary  tombs  and  inquire.  She  lost  her  national 
character,  and  her  destruction  followed.  The  ramparts  of  her  na- 
tional pride  were  broken  down,  and  vandalism  desolated  her  classic 
fields. 

2.  Such,  the  warning  voice  of  antiquity,  the  example  of  all  repub- 
lics, proclaim  may  be  our  fate.  But  let  us  no  longer  indulge  these 
gloomy  anticipations.  The  commencement  of  our  liberty  presages  the 
dawn  of  a  brighter  period  to  the  world.  That  bold,  enterprising 
spirit  which  conducted  our  heroes  to  peace  and  safety,  and  gave  us  a 
lofty  rank  amid  the  empires  of  the  world,  still  animates  the  bosoms 
of  their  descendants.  Look  back  to  that  moment  when  they  un- 
barred the  dungeons  of  the  slave  and  dashed  his  fetters  to  the  earth; 
when  the  sword  of  a  Washington  leaped  from  its  scabbard  to  avange 
the  slaughter  of  our  countrymen.  Place  their  example  before  you. 
Let  the  sparks  of  their  veteran  wisdom  flash  across  your  minds,  and 
the  sacred  altar  of  your  liberty,  crowned  with  immortal  honors  rise 
before  you.  Relying  on  the  virtue,  the  courage,  the  patriotism,  and 
the  strength  of  our  country,  we  may  expect  our  national  character 
will  become  more  energetic,  our  citizens  more  enlightened,  and  we 
may  hail  the  age  as  not  far  distant  when  will  be  heard,  as  the  proud- 
est exclamation  of  man,  I  hv.  an  American  I 


ORATORICAL   STYLE.  291 

Uesponsibilities  of  our  Republic. 

Joseph  Story. 

i  Tlie  old  world  has  already  revealed  to  us,  in  its  unsealed  books, 
tlie  beginning  and  end  of  all  its  own  marvelous  struggles  in  the  cause 
of  liberty.  Greece,  lovely  Greece,  "  the  land  of  scholars  and  the  nurse 
o;  arms,"  where  sister  republics  in  fair  procession  chanted  the  praises 
i>f  liberty  and  the  gods,  wliere  and  what  is  she  ?  For  two  thousand 
years  the  oppressor  has  bound  her  to  the  earth.  Her  arts  are  no 
more.  The  last  sad  relics  of  .her  temples  are  but  the  barracks  of  a 
ruthless  soldiery ;  the  fragments  of  her  columns  and  her  palaces  are 
in  the  dust,  yet  beautiful  in  ruin.  She  fell  not  when  the  mighty  were 
upon  her.  Her  sons  were  united  at  Thermopylae  and  Marathon,  and 
the  tide  of  her  triumph  roUed  back  upon  the  Hellespont.  She  was 
conquered  by  her  own  factions.  She  fell  by  the  hands  of  her  own 
people.  The  man  of  Macedonia  did  not  the  work  of  destruction.  It 
was  already  done,  by  her  own  corruptions,  banishments  and  dis- 
sensions. 

2.  Rome,  republican  Rome,  whose  eagles  glanced  in  the  rising  and 
setting  sun,  where  and  what  is  she  ?  The  Eternal  City  yet  remains, 
proud  even  in  her  desolation,  noble  in  her  decline,  venerable  in  the 
majesty  of  religion,  and  calm  as  in  the  composure  of  death.  The  ma- 
laria has  but  traveled  in  the  paths  worn  by  her  destroyers.  More 
than  eighteen  centuries  liave  mourned  over  the  loss  of  her  empire. 
A  mortal  disease  was  upon  her  vitals  before  Caesar  had  crossed  the 
Rubicon.  The  Goths  and  Vandals  and  Huns,  the  swarms  of  the 
North,  completed  only  what  was  already  begun  at  home.  Romans 
betrayed  Rome.  The  legions  were  bought  and  sold,  but  the  people 
offered  the  tribute-money.  When  we  reflect  on  what  has  been  and 
is,  how  is  it  possible  not  to  feel  a  profound  sense  of  the  responsible- 
ness  of  this  republic  to  all  fuiure  ages  1  What  vast  motives  press 
upon  us  for  lofty  efforts !  What  brilliant  prospects  invite  our  enthu- 
siasm 1  What  solemn  warnings  at  once  demand  our  vigilance  and 
moderate  our  confidence  1 


Duty  of  Literary  Men  to  their  Country. 

Grimke. 

1.  We  cannot  honor  our  country  with  too  deep  a  reverence;  wo 
cnnnot  love  her  with  an  affection  too  pure  and  fervent;  we  cannot 
aerve  her  with  an  energy  of  purpose  or  a  faithfulness  of  zeal  too  stead- 


292  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

fast  and  ardent.  And  wbat  is  our  country?  It  is  not  tl\e  Raat,  with 
her  hills  and  her  valleys,  with  her  countless  sails  and  the  roclcy  ram- 
parts of  her  shores ;  it  is  not  the  North,  with  her  tnousand  villap^ea, 
and  her  harvest-home,  with  her  frontiers  of  the  lake  and  the  ocean  ; 
it  is  not  the  West,  v/ith  her  forest-sea  and  her  inland  isles,  with  her 
kixuriant  expanses,  clothed  in  the  verdant  corn,  with  her  beautiful 
Ohio  and  her  majestic  Missouri;  nor  is  it  yet  the  South,  opulent  hi 
the  mimic  snow  of  the  cotton,  in  the  rich  plantations  of  the  rustling 
cane  and  in  tlie  golden  robes  of  the  rice-field.  What  are  these  but 
the  sister  famihes  of  one  greater,  better,  holier  family — our  country  ? 

2.  I  come  not  here  to  speak  the  dialect  or  to  give  the  counsels  of 
the  patriot-statesman;  but  I  come,  a  patriot-scholar,  to  vindicate  the 
rights  and  to  plead  for  the  interests  of  American  literature.  And 
be  assured  that  we  cannot,  as  patriot-scholars,  think  too  highly  of 
that  country,  or  sacrifice  too  much  for  her.  And  let  us  never  forget — 
let  us  rather  remember — with  a  religious  awe  that  the  union  of  these 
States  is  indispensable  to  our  national  independence  and  civil  liberties^ 
to  our  prosperity,  happiness  and  improvement. 

3.  If,  indeed,  we  desire  to  behold  a  literature  like  that  which  has 
sculptured  with  such  energy  of  expression,  which  has  painted  so 
faithfully  and  vividly,  the  crimes,  the  vices,  the  follies  of  ancient  and 
/riodern  Europe — if  we  desire  that  our  land  should  furnish  for  the 
orator  and  the  novelist,  for  the  painter  and  the  poet,  age  after  age, 
the  wild  and  romantic  scenery  of  war ;  the  glittering  march  of  armies 
and  the  revelry  of  the  camp ;  the  shrieks  and  blasphemies  and  all  the 
horrors  of  the  battle-field;  the  desolation  of  the  harvest  and  the  burn- 
ing cottage ;  the  storm,  the  sack  and  the  ruin  of  cities — if  we  desiro 
to  unchain  the  furious  passions  of  jealousy  and  selfishness,  of  hatred, 
revenge  and  ambition,  those  lions  that  now  sleep  harmless  in  their 
den  ;  if  we  desire  that  the  lake,  the  river,  the  oceans  should  blush  with 
the  blood  of  brothers;  that  the  winds  should  waft  from  the  land  to 
the  sea,  from  the  sea  to  the  land,  the  roar  and  the  smoke  of  battle  •, 
that  the  very  mountain-tops  should  become  altars  for  the  sacrifice  of 
brothers ;  if  we  desire  that  these  and  such  as  these — the  elements,  to 
an  incredible  extent,  of  the  literature  of  the  Old  World — should  be 
the  elements  of  our  literature ;  then,  but  then  only,  let  us  hurl  from 
its  pedestal  the  majestic  statue  of  our  Union,  and  scatter  its  fragments 
over  all  our  land. 

4.  But  if  we  covet  for  our  country  the  noblest,  purest,  holiest  litera- 
ture tl/e  world  has  ever  seen,  such  a  literature  as  shall  honor  God 
and  bless  mankind — a  literature  whose  smiles  might  play  upon  an 
angers  face  whoso  tears  "would  not  stain  an  angel's  cheek ;"  thcD 


ORATORICAL   STYLE.  293 

let  us  cling  to  the  union  of  these  States  with  a  patriot's  love,  with  a 
scholar's  enthusiasm,  with  a  Christian's  hope.  In  her  heavenly  clian 
acter,  as  a  holocaust  self-sacrificed  to  God ;  at  the  height  of  her  glory, 
as  the  ornament  of  a  free,  educated,  peaceful,  Cliristiau  people,  Ameri- 
can literature  will  find  that  the  intellectual  spirit  is  her  very  tree  of 
life,  and  the  Union  her  garden  of  paradise. 


American  Laborers. 

Naylcyr. 

1.  The  gentleman,  sir,  has  misconceived  the  spirit  and  tendency  of 
^  >rthern  institutions.  He  is  ignorant  of  Northern  character.  He 
has  forgotten  the  history  of  his  country.  Preach  insurrection  to  the 
Northern  laborers  I  Who  are  the  Northern  laborers  ?  The  history 
of  your  country  is  their  history.  The  renown  of  your  country  is  their 
renown.  The  brightness  of  their  doings  is  emblazoned  on  every  page. 
Blot  from  your  annals  the  words  and  the  doiugs  of  Northern  laborers 
and  the  history  of  your  country  presents  but  a  universal  blank.  Sir, 
who  was  he  that  disarmed  the  thunderer;  wrested  from  his  grasp 
the  bolts  of  Jove ;  calmed  the  troubled  ocean ;  became  the  central 
sun  of  the  philosophical  system  of  his  age,  shedding  his  brightness 
and  effulgence  on  the  whole  civilized  world — whom  the  great  and 
mighty  of  the  earth  delighted  to  honor,  who  participated  in  the 
achievement  of  your  independence,  prominently  assisted  in  molding 
your  free  institutions,  and  the  beneficial  effects  of  whose  wisdom  will 
be  felt  to  the  last  moment  of  "  recorded  time  ?  "  Who,  sir,  I  ask,  was 
he  ?  A  northern  laborer,  a  Yankee  tallow-chandler's  son — a  printer's 
runaway  boy  I 

2.  And  who,  let  me  ask  the  honorable  gentleman,  who  was  he  that, 
in  the  days  of  our  Revolution,  led  forth  a  Northern  army — ^yes,  au 
army  of  Northern  laborers — and  aided  the  chivalry  of  South  Carolina 
in  their  defense  against  British  aggression,  drove  the  spoilers  from 
their  firesides,  and  redeemed  her  fair  fields  from  foreign  invaders? 
Who  was  he  ?  A  Northern  laborer,  a  Rhode  Island  blacksmith — the 
gallant  General  Greene — who  left  his  hammer  and  his  forge  and  went 
forth  conquering  and  to  conquer  in  the  battle  for  our  independence  1 
And  will  you  preach  insurrection  to  men  like  these  ? 

n.  Sir,  our  country  is  full  of  the  achievements  of  Northern  laborers. 
Where  are  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Princeton,  and  Trenton,  and 
Saratoga,  and  Bunker  Hill,  but  in  the  North  ?  And  what,  sir,  has 
shed  an  imperishable  renown  on  the  never-dying  names  of  those  hal 


294:  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTIOlSr. 

lowed  spots,  but  the  blood  and  the  struggles,  the  higl?  darins:  ai  1 
patriotism  and  sublime  courage  of  Northern  laborers?  The  whole 
North  is  an  everlasting  monument  of  the  freedom,  virtue,  intelligence 
and  indomitable  independence  of  Northern  laborers  1  Go,  sir,  go 
preach  insurrection  to  men  like  these ! 

4.  The  fortitude  of  the  men  of  the  North,  under  intense  suffering 
for  liberty's  sake,  has  been  almost  godlike  1  History  has  so  recorded 
it.  "Who  comprised  that  gallant  army,  without  food,  without  pay, 
shelterless,  hopeless,  penniless,  and  almost  naked,  in  that  dreadful 
winter — the  midnight  of  our  Kevolution — whose  wanderings  could 
be  traced  by  their  blood  tracks  in  the  snow ;  whom  no  arts  could 
seduce,  no  appeal  lead  astray,  no  sufferings  disafifect ;  but  who,  true 
to  their  country  and  its  holy  cause,  continued  to  fight  the  good  fight 
of  liberty  until  it  finally  triumphed?  "Who,  sir,  were  Roger  Sherman 
and —  ?  But  it  is  idle  to  enumerate.  To  name  the  Northern  labor- 
ers who  have  distinguished  themselves,  and  illustrated  tlie  history  of 
their  coimtry,  would  require  days  of  the  time  of  this  house.  Nor  is 
it  necessary.  Posterity  will  do  them  justice.  Their  deeds  have  been 
recorded  in  characters  of  fire  1 


IsTapoleon  Bonaparte. 

Pldllips. 

1.  He  is  fallen  I  "We  may  now  pause  before  that  splendid  prodigy 
which  towered  among  us  like  some  ancient  ruin,  whose  frown  terri- 
fied the  glance  its  magnificence  attracted.  Grrand,  gloomy  and  pecul- 
iar, he  sat  upon  the  throne,  a  sceptered  hermit,  wrapt  in  the  solitude 
of  his  own  originality.  A  mind  bold,  independent  and  decisive ;  a 
will  despotic  in  its  dictates ;  an  energy  that  distanced  expedition  and 
a  conscience  pliable  to  every  touch  of  interest  marked  the  outline  of 
this  extraordinary  character,  the  most  extraordinary,  perLaps,  that  in 
the  annals  of  this  world  ever  rose  or  reigned  or  fell. 

2.  Flung  into  life  in  the  midst  of  a  revolution  that  quickened  every 
energy  of  a  people  who  acknowledge  no  superior,  he  commenced  hig 
course,  a  stranger  by  birth,  and  a  scholar  by  charity.  With  no  friend 
but  his  sword,  and  no  fortune  but  his  talents,  he  rushed  into  the  lists 
where  rank  and  wealth  and  genius  had  arrayed  themselves,  and  com- 
petition fled  from  him  as  from  the  glance  of  de^stiny.  He  knew  no 
motive  but  interest,  he  acknowledged  no  criterion  but  success,  he  wor- 
shiped no  God  but  ambition,  and,  with  an  Eastern  devotion,  he  knelt 
at  the  shrine  of  his  idolatry. 


ORATORICAL   STYLE..  295 

3.  Subsidiary  to  this  there  was  no  creed  that  he  did  not  profess- 
there  was  no  opinion  that  he  did  not  promulgate.  In  the  hope  of  a 
dynasty  he  upheld  the  Crescent ;  for  the  sake  of  a  divorce  he  bowed 
before  the  Cross;  the  orphan  of  St.  Louis,  he  became  the  adopted 
child  of  the  Republic,  and,  with  a  parricidal  ingratitude,  on  the  ruin? 
both  of  the  throne  and  tribune,  he  reared  the  throne  of  his  despotism 
A.  professed  Catholic,  he  imprisoned  the  Pope ;  a  pretended  patriot, 
he  impoverished  the  country ;  and,  in  the  name  of  Brutus,  he  grasped 
without  remorse  and  wore  without  shame  the  diadem  of  the  Caesars  1 
Through  this  pantomime  of  policy  fortune  played  the  clown  to  his 
caprices.  At  his  touch  crowns  crumbled,  beggars  reigned,  systems 
vanished,  the  wildest  theories  took  the  color  of  his  whim,  and  all 
that  was  venerable  and  all  that  was  novel  changed  places  with  the 
rapidity  of  a  drama. 

4.  Even  apparent  defeat  assumed  the  appearance  of  victory;  his 
flight  from  Egypt  confirmed  his  destiny  ;  ruin  itself  only  elevated  him 
to  empire.  But  if  his  fortune  was  great  his  genius  was  transcendent. 
Decision  flashed  upon  his  counsels,  and  it  was  the  same  to  decide  and 
to  perform.  To  inferior  intellects  his  combhiations  appeared  perfectly 
impossible,  his  plans  perfectly  impracticable ;  but  in  his  hands  sim- 
phcity  marked  their  development  and  success  vindicated  their  adop- 
tion. His  person  partook  the  character  of  his  mind ;  if  the  one  never 
yielded  in  the  cabinet,  the  other  never  bent  in  the  field.  Nature  had 
no  obstacle  that  he  did  not  surmount,  space  no  opposition  that  he  did 
not  spurn,  and,  whether  amid  Alpine  rocks,  Arabian  sands,  or  Polar 
snows,  he  seemed  proof  against  peril,  and  empowered  with  ubiquity  1 

5.  The  whole  continent  trembled  at  beholding  the  audacity  of  his 
designs  and  the  miracle  of  their  execution.  Skepticism  bowed  to  the 
prodigies  of  his  performance;  romance  assumed  the  air  of  history; 
nor  was  there  aught  too  incredible  for  belief  or  too  fanciful  for  ex- 
pectation when  the  world  saw  a  subaltern  of  Corsica  waving  his  im- 
perial flag  over  her  most  ancient  capitals.  All  the  visions  of  antiquity 
became  commonplaces  in  his  contemplation.  Kings  were  his  people, 
nations  were  his  outposts,  and  he  disposed  of  courts  and  crowns  and 
camps  and  churches  and  cabinets  as  if  they  were  titular  dignitaries 
of  the  chess-board.  Amid  all  these  changes  he  stood  immutable  aa 
adamant. 

6.  It  mattered  little  whether  in  the  field  or  in  the  drawing-room, 
with  the  mob  or  the  levee,  wearing  the  Jacobin  bonnet  or  the  iron 
crown,  bar.ishing  a  Braganza,  or  espousing  a  Hapsburg,  dictating 
peace  on  a  raft  to  the  Czar  of  Russia,  or  contemplating  defeat  at  the 
gallows  of  Leipsic,  he  was  still  the  same  military  despot. 


296  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

7.  In  this  wonderful  combination  his  affectations  of  literature  must 
not  be  omitted.  The  jailer  of  the  press,  he  affected  the  patronage  of 
letters ;  the  proscriber  of  books,  he  c^.couniged  philosophy ;  the  per- 
secutor of  authors  and  the  murderer  of  printers,  he  yet  pretended  to 
the  protection  of  learning.  Such  a  medley  of  contradictions,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  such  an  individual  consistency,  were  never  united  in 
tlie  same  character.  A  royalist,  a  republican  and  an  emperor,  a  Mo- 
hammedan, a  Catholic  and  a  patron  of  the  synagogue,  a  subaltern  and 
a  sovereign,  a  traitor  and  a  tyrant,  a  Christian  and  an  infidel,  he  was, 
through  all  his  vicissitudes,  the  same  stern,  impatient,  inflexible  orig- 
inal, the  same  mysterious,  incomprehensible  self — the  man  without  a 
model  and  without  a  shadow. 


Unjust  National  Acquisitions. 

Thomas  Corwin. 

1.  Mr.  President,  the  uneasy  desire  to  augment  our  territory  has 
depraved  the  moral  sense  and  blighted  the  otherwise  keen  sagacity 
of  our  people.  Sad,  very  sad,  are  the  lessons  which  time  has  written 
for  us.  Through  and  in  them  all  I  see  nothing  but  the  inflexible  exe- 
cution of  that  old  law  which  ordains  as  eternal  the  cardinal  rule, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  goods,  nor  any  thing  which  is 
his."  Since  I  have  lately  heard  so  much  about  the  dismemberment 
of  Mexico  I  have  looked  back  to  see  how,  in  the  course  of  events, 
which  some  call  "  Providence,"  it  has  fared  with  other  nations  who 
engaged  in  this  work  of  dismemberment. 

2.  I  see  that  in  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  three  pow- 
erful nations — Russia,  Austria  and  Prussia — united  in  the  dismember- 
ment of  Poland.  They  said,  too,  as  you  say,  "It  is  our  destiny." 
They  "wanted  room."  Doubtless  each  of  these  thought,  with 
his  share  of  Poland,  his  power  was  too  strong  ever  to  fear  invasion, 
or  even  insult.  One  had  his  California,  another  his  New  Mexico,  and 
the  third  his  Yera  Cruz. 

3.  Did  they  remain  untouched  and  incapable  of  harm?  Alas,  no! 
far,  very  far  from  it.  Retributive  justice  must  fulfill  its  destiny  too. 
A  few  years  pass  off",  and  we  hear  of  a  -^ew  man,  a  Corsican  lieutenant, 
the  self-named  *'  armed  soldier  of  Democracy,"  Napoleon.  He  rav- 
ages Austria,  covers  her  land  with  blood,  drives  the  Northern  Caesar 
from  his  capital,  and  sleeps  in  his  palace.  Austria  may  now  remem- 
ber how  her  power  trampled  upon  Poland.  Did  she  not  pay  dear, 
very  dear,  for  her  California  ? 


ORATORICAL  STYLE.  297 

4.  But  has  Prussia  no  atonement  to  make?  You  see  this  same 
Napoleon,  the  blind  instrument  of  Providence,  at  work  there.  The 
thunders  of  his  cannon  at  Jena  proclaim  the  work  of  retribution  for 
Poland's  wrongs,  and  the  successors  of  the  Great  Frederick,  the 
drill-sergeant  of  Europe,  are  seen  flying  across  the  sandy  plains 
that  surround  their  capital,  right  glad  if  they  may  escape,  captivity 
and  death. 

5  But  how  fares  it  with  the  autocrat  of  Russia  ?  Ts  he  secure  in 
his  share  of  the  spoils  of  Poland?  No.  Suddenly  we  see,  sir,  six 
hundred  thousand  armed  men  marching  to  Moscow.  Does  his  Vera 
Cruz  protect  him  now?  Far  from  it.  Blood,  slaughter,  desolation 
spread  abroad  over  the  land ;  and,  finally,  the  conflagration  of  the  old 
commercial  metropolis  of  Russia  closes  the  retribution.  She  must  pay 
for  her  share  in  the  dismemberment  of  her  impotent  neighbor. 

6.  Mr.  President,  a  mind  more  prone  to  look  for  the  judgments  of 
Heaven  in  the  doings  of  men  than  mine  cannot  fail,  in  all  unjust  ac- 
quisitions of  territory,  to  see  the  providence  of  God.  When  Moscow 
burned,  it  seemed  as  if  the  earth  was  hghted  up  tliat  the  nations 
-might  behold  the  scene.  As  that  mighty  sea  of  fire  gathered  and 
heaved  and  rolled  upward,  and  yet  higher,  till  its  flames  licked  the 
stars  and  fired  the  whole  heavens,  it  did  seem  as  though  the  God  of 
the  nations  was  writing,  in  characters  of  flame,  on  the  front  of  his 
throne  that  doom  that  shall  fall  upon  the  strong  nation  which  tram- 
ples in  scorn  upon  the  weak. 


Our   System   of   Public    iNSTRuoTioisr   should    Dis- 
tinctively Inculcate  a  Love  of  Country. 

Newton  Bateman. 

1.  The  true  American  patriot  is  ever  a  worshiper.  The  starry 
symbol  of  his  country's  sovereignty  is  to  him  radiant  with  a  diviner 
glory  than  that  which  meets  his  mortal  vision.  It  epitomizes  thr 
splendid  results  of  dreary  ages  of  experiments  and  failures  in  human 
government;  and,  as  he  gazes  upon  its  starry  folds  undulating 
responsive  to  the  whispering  winds  of  the  upper  air,  it  sometimes 
seems  to  his  rapt  spirit  to  recede  farther  and  farther  into  the  soft  blue 
skies,  till  the  heavens  open,  and  angel  hands  plant  it  upon  the  battle- 
ments of  Paradise.  Wherever  that  ensign  floats,  on  the  sea  or  on  the 
land,  it  is  to  him  the  very  Shekinah  of  his  political  love  and  faith, 
luminous  with  the  presence  of  that  God  who  conducted  his  fathers 


298  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

across  the  sea  and  through  the  fires  of  the  Revolution  to  the  Pisgal 
heights  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  Its  stars  seem  real;  its  lines  of 
white  symbol  the  purity  of  his  heroic  sires ;  those  of  red  their  patriot 
blood  shed  in  defense  of  the  right.  To  defend  that  flag  is  to  hire 
something  more  than  a  duty,  it  is  a  joy,  a  coveted  privilege ;  akin  to 
that  which  nerves  the  arm  and  directs  the  blow  in  defense  of  w'fe  oi 
child.  To  insult  it,  is  worse  than  infamy;  to  make  war  upon  it,  mort 
than  treason 

9..  A  perfjct  civil  government  is  the  sublimest  earthly  symbol  of 
Deity — indeed,  such  a  government  is  a  transcript  of  the  divine  will ; 
its  spirit  and  principles  identical  with  those  with  which  He  governs 
he  universe.  Its  vigilance,  care  and  protection,  are  ubiquitous:  its 
Btrong  hand  is  ever  ready  to  raise  the  fallen,  restrain  the  violent,  and 
punish  the  aggressor;  its  patient  ear  is  bent  to  catch  alike  the  com- 
plaint of  the  rich  and  strong,  or  the  poor  and  weak,  while  unerring 
justice  presides  at  the  trial  and  settlement  of  every  issue  between 
man  and  man. 

3.  Now,  our  government  is  not  perfect,  even  in  theory,  and  still 
less  so  in  practice ;  but  it  is  good  and  strong  and  glorious  enough  to 
inspire  a  loftier  patriotism  than  animates  the  people  of  any  other 
nation.  What  element  is  wanting  to  evoke  the  passimiate  love  and 
admiration  of  an  American  citizen  for  his  country?  Is  it  ancestry? 
Men  of  purer  lives,  sterner  principles,  or  braver  hearts  than  our 
fathers  never  crossed  the  sea.  Is  it  motives?  Not  for  war  or  con- 
quest, but  for  civil  and  religious  liberty  did  our  fathers  approach  these 
shores.  Is  it  perils  and  obstacles?  Wintry  storms,  and  icy  coasts, 
and  sterile  soils;  prowling  beasts,  and  savage  man,  and  hunger,  and 
nakedness,  and  disease,  and  death,  were  the  greetings  our  fathers 
received.  Is  it  patient  endurance  ?  Not  till  tlie  revelations  of  the  final 
day  will  the  dauntless  fortitude  of  our  fathers,  in  the  midst  of  appalling 
dangers  and  sufferings,  be  disclosed.  Is  it  heroic  achievement  ?  Again 
and  again  has  the  haughty  lion  of  St.  George  been  brought  to  the  dust, 
and  the  titled  chivalry  of  lilngland  overthrown  by  the  resistless  onset 
of  the  sons  of  liberty,  led  by  ''Mr.  Washington!"  Is  it  moral  sub- 
limity? Behold  Witherspoon  in  the  Continental  Congress;  Washing- 
ton at  Yalley  Forge;  Clay  in  the  Senate  of  1850.  Is  it  that  we  have 
no  historical  Meccas?  Where  shall  a  patiiot  muse  and  pray,  if  not 
by  the  shades  of  Vernon  or  Ashland — at  Marshfield  or  the  Hermitage, 
Have  we  no  great  names  to  go  flaming  down  the  ages  ?  When  will 
Henry's  clarion  voice  be  hushed,  or  Warren  cease  to  tell  men  how  to 
die  for  liberty?  when  will  Adams,  and  Frankhn,  and  Jefferson  fade 
from  history?     Is  it  constitutional  wisdom,  excellence  of  lavAS,  or 


ORATORICAL   STYLE.  299 

incentives  to  individual  exertion?  No  other  lands  can  compare  with 
ours  in  these  respects.  Is  it  grandeur  of  scenery  ?  God  has  made 
but  one  Niagara,  one  Mississippi,  one  Hudson.  Is  it  territorial  exzent? 
Our  domain  stretches  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  from  lake  to  gulf. 

4.  By  all  these  incentives  let  our  school-boys  be  fired  with  an 
enthusiastic  love  for  the  dear  land  of  their  birth,  the  precious  heritage 
of  their  fathers;  let  them  leave  the  school-room  for  the  arena  of  active 
life,  feehng  that  next  to  God  and  their  parents,  their  country  claims 
and  sliall  receive  their  best  affections  and  most  uncompromising 
devotion ;  let  them  realize  tliat  their  conduct  will  bring  honor  or  dis- 
honor upon  their  countrj^,  as  surely  as  upon  their  parents  and  friends; 
let  them  learn  to  identify  themselves  as  citizens  with  the  interests 
of  the  commonwealth,  blushing  at  whatever  disgraces  her,  exulting 
in  all  that  contributes  to  her  glory  and  renown;  let  them  feel  that 
this  great  country  is  their  country,  that  they  have  a  personal  pro- 
prietorship in  the  luster  of  her  history,  the  honor  of  her  namej  the 
magnificence  of  her  commerce,  the  valor  of  her  fleets  and  armies,  the 
inviolability  of  her  Constitution  and  laws,  and  the  magnitude  and  benef 
icence  of  her  civil,  social,  and  religious  institutions. 


Appeal  in  Behalf  of  Ireland. 

8.  S.  Prentiss. 

1.  Fellow-citizens:  It  is  no  ordinary  cause  that  has  brought  to- 
gether this  vast  assemblage  on  the  present  occasion.  We  have  met, 
not  to  prepare  ourselves  for  political  contests ;  we  have  met,  not  to 
celebrate  the  achievements  of  those  gallant  men  who  have  planted 
our  victorious  standards  in  the  heart  of  an  enemy's  country;  we 
have  assembled,  not  to  respond  to  shouts  of  triumph  from  the  West ; 
but  to  answer  the  cry  of  want  and  sufi'ering  which  comes  from  the 
East.  The  Old  World  stretches  out  her  arms  to  the  New.  The  starv- 
ing parent  supplicates  the  young  and  vigorous  child  for  bread. 

2.  There  hes  upoi  ihe  other  side  of  the  wide  Atlantic  a  beautiful 
island,  famous  in  story  and  in  song.  Its  area  is  not  so  great  as  that 
of  the  State  of  Louisiana,  while  its  population  is  almost  half  that  of 
the  Union.  It  has  given  to  the  world  more  than  its  share  of  genius 
and  of  greatness.  It  has  been  prohfic  in  statesmen,  warriors,  and 
poets.  Its  brave  and  generous  sons  have  fought  successfully  all 
battles  but  their  own.  In  wit  and  humor  it  has  no  equal ;  while  its 
harp,  like  its  history  moves  to  tears  by  its  sweet  but  melancholy 
patlios. 


800  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION". 

3.  Into  this  fair  reg'on  God  has  seen  fit  to  send  the  most  terrible 
of  all  those  fearful  ministers  that  fulfill  his  inscrutable  decrees.  The 
earth  has  failed  to  give  her  increase.  The  common  mother  has  for- 
gotten her  offspring,  and  she  no  longer  affords  them  their  accustomed 
nourishment.  Famine,  gaunt  and  ghastly  famine,  has  seized  a  nation 
with  its  stranghng  grasp.  Unhappy  Ireland,  in  the  sad  woes  of  the 
present,  forgets,  for  a  moment,  the  gloomy  history  of  the  past. 

4.  0  H  is  terrible  that,  in  this  beautiful  world  which  the  good  God 
has  given  us,  and  in  which  there  is  plenty  for  us  all,  men  should  die 
of  starvation!  When  a  man  dies  of  disease  he  alone  endures  the 
pain.  Around  his  pillow  are  gathered  sympathizing  friends,  who,  if 
they  cannot  keep  back  the  deadly  messenger,  cover  his  face  and  coU' 
ceal  the  horrors  of  his  visage  as  he  delivers  his  stern  mandate.  In 
battle,  in  the  fullness  of  his  pride  and  strength,  little  recks  the  soldier 
whether  the  hissing  bullet  sings  his  sudden  requiem,  or  the  cords  of 
life  are  severed  by  the  sharp  steel. 

5.  But  he  who  dies  of  hunger  wrestles  alone,  day  by  day,  with  his 
grim  and  unrelenting  enemy.  He  has  no  friends  to  cheer  him  in. the 
terrible  conflict ;  for  if  he  had  friends,  how  could  he  die  of  hunger  ? 
He  has  not  the  hot  blood  of  the  soldier  to  maintain  him;  for  his  foe, 
vampire-like,  has  exhausted  his  veins.  Famine  comes  not  up,  hke  a 
brave  enemy,  storming,  by  a  sudden  onset,  the  fortress  that  resists. 
Famine  besieges.  He  draws  his  hues  round  the  doomed  garrison. 
He  cuts  off"  all  supplies.  He  never  summons  to  surrender,  for  he 
gives  no  quarter. 

6.  Alas,  for  poor  human  nature!  how  can  it  sustain  this  fearful 
warfare  ?  Day  by  day  the  blood  recedes,  the  flesh  deserts,  the 
muscles  relax,  and  the  sinews  grow  powerless.  At  last  the  mind, 
which  at  first  had  bravely  nerved  itself  against  the  contest,  gives  way 
under  the  mysterious  influences  which  govern  its  union  with  the  * 
body.  Then  the  victim  begins  to  doubt  the  existence  of  an  overruling 
Providence.  He  hates  his  fellow-men,  and  glares  upon  them  with  the 
longing  of  a  cannibal ;  and,  it  may  be,  dies  blaspheming. 

7.  This  is  one  of  those  cases  in  which  we  may  without  impiety 
assume,  as  it  were,  the  function  of  Providence.  Who  knows  but  1  ha< 
one  of  the  very  objects  of  this  calamity  is  to  test  the  benevolence  and 
worthiness  of  us  upon  whom  unlimited  abundance  is  showered  ?  Tu 
the  name,  then,  of  common  humanity,  I  invoke  your  aid  in  behalf  of 
starving  Ireland.  He  who  is  able,  aud  will  not  aid  such  a  cause,  is 
not  a  man,  and  has  no  right  to  wear  the  form.  He  should  be  seat 
back  to  Nature's  mint,  and  re-issued  as  a  counterfeit  on  humanity  of 
Nature's  baser  metal. 


ORATORICAL  STYLE.  301 

Glorious  ISTew  England. 

iS.  S.  Prentiss. 

1  Glorious  New  England,  thou  art  still  true  to  thy  ancient  fane, 
and  worthy  of  thy  ancestral  honors.  "We,  thy  children,  have  assem- 
bled in  this  far  distant  land  to  celebrate  thy  birthday.  A  thousand 
fond  associations  throng  upon  us,  roused  by  the  spirit  of  the  hour. 
On  thy  pleasant  valleys  rest,  like  sweet  dews  of  morning,  the  gentle 
recollections  of  our  early  life ;  around  thy  hills  and  mountains  cling. 
like  gathering  mists,  the  mighty  memories  of  the  Revolution ;  and  far 
awaj'"  in  the  horizon  of  thy  past  gleam,  like  thy  own  bright  northern 
lights,  the  awful  virtues  of  our  pilgrim  sires  I  But  while  we  de- 
vote this  day  to  the  remembrance  of  our  native  land,  we  forget  not 
that  in  which  our  happy  lot  is  cast.  We  exult  in  the  reflection  that, 
tliough  we  count  by  thousands  the  miles  which  separate  us  from  our 
oirth-place,  still  our  country  is  the  same.  We  are  no  exiles  meeting 
upon  the  banks  of  a  foreign  river  to  swell  its  waters  with  our  home- 
sick tears.  Here  floats  the  same  banner  which  rustled  above  our 
boyish  heads,  except  that  its  mighty  folds  are  wider  and  its  ghttering 
stars  increased  in  number. 

2.  The  sons  of  New  England  are  found  in  every  State  of  the  broad 
republic.  In  the  East,  the  South  and  the  unbounded  West  their 
blood  mingles '  freely  with  every  kindred  current.  We  have  but 
changed  our  chamber  in  the  paternal  mansion ;  in  all  its  rooms  we 
are  at  home,  and  all  who  inhabit  it  are  our  brothers.  To  us  the 
Union  has  but  one  domestic  hearth ;  its  household  gods  are  all  the 
same.  Upon  us,  then,  peculiarly  devolves  the  duty  of  feeding  the 
fires  upon  that  kindly  hearth,  of  guarding  with  pious  care  those  sacred 
household  gods. 

3.  We  cannot  do  with  less  than  the  whole  Union.  To  us  it  admits 
of  no  division.  In  the  veins  of  our  children  flows  Nortliern  and 
Southern  blood.  How  shall  it  be  separated?  Who  shall  put  asunder 
the  best  aflectious  of  the  heart,  the  noblest  instincts  of  our  nature  ? 
We  love  the  land  of  our  adoption,  so  do  we  that  of  our  birth.  Let  us 
ever  be  true  to  both,  and  always  exert  ourselves  in  maintaining  the 
unity  of  our  country,  the  integrity  of  the  republic. 

4.  Accursed,  then,  be  the  hand  put  forth  to  loosen  the  golden  cord 
of  union  I  thrice  accursed  the  traitorous  lips  which  shall  propose  its 
severance! 

5.  But  no,  the  Union  cannot  be  dissolved;  its  fortunes  are  too 
brilliant  to  be  marred ;  its  destinies  too  powerful  to  be  resisted. 
Here  -will  be  their  greatest  triumph,  their  most  mighty  development 


802  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

6.  And  when,  a  century  hence,  this  Crescent  City  shall  have  filled 
her  golden  horns ;  when  within  her  JDroad-armed  port  shall  be  gath- 
ered the  products  of  the  mdustry  of  a  hi^ndred  millions  of  freemen ; 
when  galleries  of  art  and  halls  of  learning  shall  have  made  classic  this 
mart  of  trade ;  then  may  the  sons  of  the  Pilgrims,  still  wanaering 
from  the  bleak  hills  of  the  North,  stand  upon  the  banks  of  the  great 
river  and  exclaim,  with  mingled  pride  and  wonder,  Lo !  this  is  our 
country;  when  did  the  world  ever  behold  so  rich  and  magnificent  a 
city,  so  great  and  glorious  a  republic  I 


Speech  Before  the  Virginia  Convention  of  Dele- 
gates, March,  17 '7  5. 

Patrick  Henry. 

1.  Mr.  President,  it  is  natural  for  man  to  indulge  in  the  illusions  of 
hope.  We  are  apt  to  shut  our  eyes  against  a  painful  truth  and  listen 
to  the  song  of  that  siren  till  she  transforms  us  into  beasts.  Is  this 
the  part  of  wise  men  engaged  in  the  great  and  arduous  struggle  for 
liberty  ?  Are  we  disposed  to  be  of  the  number  of  those  who  having 
eyes  see  not,  and  having  ears  hear  not,  the  things  which  so  nearly 
concern  their  temporal  salvation  ?  For  my  part,  whatever  anguish 
of  spirit  it  may  cost,  I  am  willing  to  know  the  whole  truth ;  to  know 
the  worst  and  to  provide  for  it. 

2.  I  have  but  one  lamp  by  which  my  feet  are  guided,  and  that  is, 
the  lamp  of  experience.  I  know  of  no  way  of  judging  of  the  future 
but  by  the  past.  And,  judging  by  the  past,  I  wish  to  know  what 
there  has  been  in  the  conduct  of  the  British  ministry  for  the  last  ten 
years  to  justify  those  hopes  with  which  gentlemen  have  been  pleased 
to  solace  themselves  and  the  house.  Is  it  that  insidious  smile 
with  which  our  petition  has  been  lately  received?  Trust  it  not, 
sir;  it  will  prove  a  snare  to  your  feet.  Suffer  not  yourselves  to  be 
betrayed  with  a  kiss.  Ask  yourselves  how  this  gracious  receptioa 
of  our  petition  comports  with  those  warhke  preparations  which 
cover  our  waters  and  darken  our  land.  Are  lieets  and  armies  neces- 
sary to  a  work  of  love  and  reconciliation?  Have  we  shown  ourselves 
BO  uQwilling  to  be  reconciled  that  force  must  be  called  in  to  win  back 
our  love? 

3.  Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves,  sir.  These  are  the  implements  of 
war  and  subjugation,  the  last  arguments  to  which  kin^-s  resort  I 
ask  gentlemen,  sir,  what  means  this  martial  array,  if  its  parposeu  be 


ORATORICAL   STYLE.  B()3 

not  to  force  us  to  submission  ?  Can  gentlemen  assign  any  other  pos- 
sible motive  for  it  ?  Has  Great  Britain  any  enemy  in  this  quarter  of 
the  world  to  call  for  all  this  accumulation  of  navies  and  armies  ?  No, 
sir,  sha  has  none.  They  are  meant  for  us  They  can  be  meant  for 
no  other.  They  are  sent  over  to  bind  and  livet  upon  us  those  chains 
which  the  British  ministry  have  been  so  long  forging. 

4.  And  what  have  we  to  oppose  them  ?  Shall  we  try  argument  ? 
Sir,  we  have  been  trying  that  for  the  last  ten  years.  Have  we  any  thing 
nev/  to  offer  upon  the  subject  ?  Nothing.  We  have  held  the  subject 
up  in  every  light  of  which  it  is  capable ;  but  it  has  been  all  in  vain. 
Shall  we  resort  to  entreaty  and  supplication  ?  What  terms  shall  we 
find  that  have  not  been  already  exhausted  ?  Let  us  not,  I  beseech 
you,  sir,  deceive  ourselves  longer.  Sir,  we  have  done  every  thing 
that  could  have  been  done  to  avert  the  storm  that  is  now  coming  on. 
We  have  petitioned,  we  have  remonstrated,  we  have  supplicated,  we 
have  prostrated  ourselves  before  the  throne,  and  have  implored  itG 
interposition  to  arrest  the  tyrannical  hands  of  the  ministry  and  Par- 
liament. 

5.  Our  petitions  have  been  slighted,  our  remonstrances  have  pro- 
duced additional  violence  and  insult,  our  supph cations  have  been  dis- 
regarded, and  we  have  been  spurned  with  contempt  from  the  foot  of 
the  throne.  In  vain,  after  these  things,  may  we  indulge  the  fond 
hope  of  peace  and  reconciliation.  There  is  no  longer  any  room  for 
hope.  If  we  wish  to  be  free ;  if  we  mean  to  preserve  inviolate  those 
inestimable  privileges  for  which  we  have  been  so  long  contending ;  if 
we  mean  not  basely  to  abandon  the  noble  struggle  in  which  we  have 
been  so  long  engaged,  and  which  we  have  pledged  ourselves  never  to 
abandon  until  the  glorious  object  of  our  contest  shall  be  obtained,  we 
must  fight !  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must  fight  I  An  appeal  to  arms  and 
to  the  God  of  hosts  is  all  that  is  left  us. 

6.  They  tell  us,  sir,  that  we  are  weak ;  unable  to  cope  with  so  for- 
midable an  adversary.  But  when  shall  we  be  stronger?  Will  it  be  the 
next  week  or  the  next  year  ?  Will  it  be  when  we  are  totally  disarmed, 
and  when  a  Britisli  guard  shall  be  stationed  in  every  house  ?  Shall 
we  gather  strength  by  irresolution  and  inaction  ?  Shall  we  acquire 
the  means  of  effectual  resistance  by  lying  supinely  on  our  backs,  and 
hugging  the  delusive  phantom  of  hope,  until  our  enemies  shall  have 
bound  us  hand  and  foot  ?  Sir,  we  are  not  weak  if  we  make  a  proper 
use  of  those  means  which  the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in  our 
power. 

7.  Three  millions  of  people  armed  in  the  holy  cause  of  liberty,  and 
in  Puch  a  country  as  that  which  we  possess,  are  invincible  by  auy 


304  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

force  which  our  enemy  can  send  against  us.  Besides,  sir,  we  shall  noi 
fight  our  battles  alone.  There  is  a  just  God  who  presides  over  the 
destinies  of  nations,  and  who  will  raise  up  friends  to  fight  our  battles 
for  us.  The  battle,  sir,  is  not  to  the  strong  alone :  it  is  to  the  vigilant, 
the  active,  the  brave.  Besides,  sir,  w^e  have  no  election.  If  we  were 
base  enough  to  desire  it,  it  is  now  too  late  to  retire  from  the  contest. 
There  is  no  retreat  but  in  submission  and  slavery !  Our  chains  are 
forged.  Their  clanking  may  be  heard  on  the  plains  of  Boston  !  The 
war  is  inevitable,  and  let  it  come !     I  repeat,  sir,  let  it  come  1 

8.  It  is  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  Gentlemen  may  cry, 
Peace,  peace  I  but  there  is  no  peace.  The  war  is  actually  begun  ! 
The  next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  North  will  bring  to  our  ears  the 
clash  of  resounding  arms!  Our  brethren  are  already  in  the  field  I 
Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What  is  it  that  gentlemen  wish  ?  What 
would  they  have?  Is  life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  pr.r- 
chased  at  the  price  of  chains  and  slavery?  Forbid  it,  Almighty  God  I 
I  know  not  what  course  others  may  take,  but  as  for  me,  give  me 
liberty  or  give  me  death  I 


Supposed  Speech  of  James  Otis. 

Mrs.  L.  M.  Child: 

1.  England  may  as  well  dam  up  the  waters  of  the  Nile  with  bul- 
rushes as  fetter  the  step  of  -Freedom,  more  proud  and  firm  in  ttiis 
youthful  land  than  where  she  treads  the  sequestered  glens  of  Scotland, 
or  crouches  herself  among  the  magjjificent  mountains  of  Switzerland. 
Arbitrary ' principles,  like  those  against  which  we  now  contest,  have 
cost  one  king  his  life,  another  his  crown,  and  they  may  yet  cost  a  third 
his  most  flourishing  colonies. 

2.  We  are  two  millions;  one  fifth  fighting  men.  We  are  bold  and 
vigorous,  and  we  call  no  man  master.  To  the  nation  from  whom  we 
are  proud  to  derive  our  origin,  we  ever  were,  and  we  ever  will  be, 
ready  to  yield  unforced  assistance ;  but  it  must  not,  and  ii  never  can 
be,  extorted. 

3.  Some  have  sneeringly  asked,  "  Are  the  Americans  too  poor  to 
pay  a  fevr  pounds  on  stamped  paper  ?  "  No  1  America,  thanks  to  God 
and  herself,  is  rich.  But  the  right  to  take  ten  pounds  impheg  the 
right  to  take  a  thousand ;  and  what  must  be  the  wealth  that  avarice, 
aided  by  power,  cannot  exhaust?  True,  the  specter  is  now  small; 
but  the  shadow  he  casts  before  him  is  huge  enough  to  darken  all  this 
fair  land. 

4    Others,  ^'n  a  sentimental  style,  talk  of  the  irameiiso  debt  of  gratl- 


ORATORICAL   STYLE.  805 

tude  which  we  owe  to  England.  And  what  is  the  amount  of  this 
debt  ?  Why,  truly,  it  is  the  same  that  the  young  lion  owes  to  the 
dam,  which  has  brought  it  forth  on  the  solitude  of  the  mountain,  or 
left  it  amid  tlie  winds  and  storms  of  the  desert. 

5.  'We  plunged  into  the  wave  with  the  great  charter  of  freedom  in 
our  teeth,  because  the  fagot  and  the  torch  were  behind  us.  We  have 
waked  this  new  world  from  its  savage  lethargy;  forests  have  been 
prostrated  in  our  path;  towns  and  cities  have  grown  up  suddenly  as 
the  flowers  of  the  tropics ;  and  the  fires  in  our  autumnal  woods  are 
scarcely  more  rapid  than  the  increase  of  our  wealth  and  population. 
And  do  we  owe  all  this  to  the  kind  succor  of  tlie  mother  country? 
No  I  we  owe  it  to  the  tyranny  that  drove  us  from  her,  to  the  pelting 
storms  which  invigorated  our  helpless  infancy. 

6.  But  perhaps  others  will  say,  "We  ask  no  money  from  your 
gratitude:  we  only  demand  that  you  should  pay  your  own  expenses." 
And  who,  I  pray,  is  to  judge  of  their  necessity?  Why,  the  king: 
and,  with  all  due  reverence  to  his  sacred  majesty,  he  understands  the 
real  wants  of  his  distant  subjects  as  little  as  he  does  the  language  of 
the  Choctawsl  Who  is  to  judge  concerning  the  frequency  of  these 
demands?  The  ministry.  Who  is  to  judge  whether  the  money  in 
properly  expended?  The  cabinet  behind  the  throne.  In  every  in- 
stance those  who  take  are  to  judge  for  those  who  pa?/.  If  this  system 
is  suffered  to  go  into  operation  we  shall  iiave  reason  to  esteem  it  a 
great  privilege  that  rain  and  dew  do  not  depend  upon  Parliament; 
otherwise,  Uiey  would  soon  be  taxed  and  dried. 

7.  But,  thanks  to  God  1  there  is  freedom  enough  left  upon  earth  to 
resist  such  monstrous  injustice.  The  flame  of  Uberty  is  extinguished 
in  Greece  and  JRome^  but  the  light  of  its  glowing  embers  is  still  bright 
and  strong  on  the  shores  of  America.  Actuated  by  its  sacred  influ- 
ence, we  will  resist  unto  death.  But  we  will  not  countenance  anarchy 
and  misrule.  The  wrongs  that  a  desperate  community  have  heaped 
upon  tlieir  enemies  shall  be  amply  and  speedily  repaired.  Still,  it 
may  be  well  for  some  proud  men  to  remember,  that  a  fire  is  lighted  in 
chese  colonies  which  one  breath  of  their  king  may  kindle  into  such  a 
fury  that  the  blood  of  all  England  cannot  extinguish  it. 

20 


306  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

RiBNZi's  Address  to  the  Romans 

Mi88  Mitford. 

1.  I  come  not  here  to  talk.    Tou  know  too  well 
The  story  of  our  thraldom.     We  are  slaves  I 
The  bright  sun  rises  to  his  course  and  lights 
A  race  of  slaves  1     He  sets,  and  his  last  beams 
Fall  on  a  slave ;  not  such  as,  swept  along 

By  the  full  tide  of  power,  the  conqueror  led 

To  crimson  glory  and  undying  fame, 

But  base,  ignoble  slaves ;  slaves  to  a  horde 

Of  petty  tyrants,  feudal  despots,  lords, 

Rich  in  some  dozen  paltry  villages ; 

Strong  in  some  hundred  spearmen ;  only  great 

In  that  strange  spell— a  name. 

2.  Each  hour,  dark  fraud, 

Or  open  rapine,  or  protected  murder, 

Cries  out  against  them.     But  this  very  day 

An  honest  man,  my  neighbor — there  he  stands — 

"Was  struck — struck  like  a  dog  by  one  who  wore 

The  badge  of  Ursini ;  because,  forsooth, 

He  tossed  not  high  his  ready  cap  in  air, 

Nor  lifted  up  his  voice  in  servile  shouts 

At  sight  of  that  great  ruffian  I     Be  we  men, 

And  suffer  such  dishonor?  men,  and  wash  not 

The  stain  away  in  blood  ?     Such  shames  are  common : 

I  have  known  deeper  wrongs;  I,  that  speak  to  ye. 

I  had  a  brother  once — a  gracious  boy, 

Full  of  gentleness,  of  calmest  hope. 

Of  sweet  and  quiet  joy:  there  was  the  look 

Of  heaven  upon  his  face,  which  limners  give 

To  the  beloved  disciple. 

S.  How  I  loved 

That  gracious  boy  I     Younger  by  fifteen  years, 

Brother  at  once,  and  son  I     He  left  my  side ; 

A  summer  bloom  on  his  fair  cheek,  a  smile 

Parting  his  innocent  lips.     In  one  short  hour 

That  pretty,  harmless  boy  was  slain  I     I  saw 

The  corse,  the  mangled  corse,  and  then  I  cried 

For  vengeance  1     Rouse,  j^e  Romans!  rouse,  ye  slaves  I 

Have  ye  brave  sons  ?    Look  in  the  next  fierce  brawl 


ORATORICAL  STYLE.  307 

To  see  them  die.     Have  ye  fair  daughters?     Look 
To  see  them  live,  torn  from  your  arms,  distained, 
Dishonored ;  and  if  ye  dare  call  for  justice, 
Be  answered  by  the  lash  I 

4.  Yet  this  is  Rome, 

That  sat  on  her  seven  hills,  and  from  her  throne 
Of  beauty  ruled  the  world  1     Yet  we  are  Romans  I 
Why,  in  that  elder  day,  to  be  a  Roman 
Was  greater  than  a  king !  and  once  again — 
Hear  me,  ye  walls,  that  echoed  to  the  tread 
Of  either  Brutus!  once,  again,  I  swear 
The  eternal  city  shall  be  free  I 


308  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ORATORICAL  SUBLIME  STYLE. 

Some  selections  partake  of  the  commingled  elements  of 
two  styles. 

The  two  following,  and,  in  fact,  all  funeral  orations, 
are  of  this  class,  containing  the  elements  both  of  the 
Oratorical  and  Sublime  Styles,  and  hence  may  be  appro- 
priately classed  under  the  Oratorical  Sublime. 

Similar  examples  will  frequently  occur,  but  it  has  not 
been  thought  necessary  to  present  them  separately,  as 
they  are  only  combinations  of  styles  already  sufficiently 
discussed. 

Death  op  John  Quincy  Adams. 

L.  E.  Holmes. 

1.  Mr.  Speaker,  The  miiigled  tones  of  sorrow,  like  the  voice  of 
manj^  waters,  have  come  unto  us  from  a  sister  State — Massachusetts — 
weeping  for  her  honored  son.  The  State  I  have  the  honor  in  part  to 
represent  once  endured,  with  yours,  a  common  suffering,  battled  for  a 
common  cause,  and  rejoiced  in  a  common  triumph.  Surely,  then,  it  is 
jieet  that  in  this  the  day  of  your  affliction  we  should  mingle  our  griefs. 

2.  When  a  great  man  falls  the  nation  mourns,  when  a  patriarch  is 
removed  the  people  weep.  Ours,  my  associates,  is  no  common  be- 
reavement. The  chain  which  hnked  our  hearts  with  the  gifted  spirita 
of  former  times  has  been  suddenly  snapped.  The  lips  from  which 
flowed  tliose  living  and  glorious  truths  that  our  fatliers  uttered  are 
closed  in  death. 

3.  Yes,  my  friends,  death  has  been  among  us.  He  has  not  entered 
the  humble  cottage  of  some  unknown,  ignoble  peasant;  he  has 
knocked  audibly  at  the  palace  of  a  nation.  His  footstep  has  been 
heard  in  the  halls  of  State  1  He  has  cloven  down  his  victim  in  the 
midst  of  the  councils  of  a  people.     He  has  borne  in  triumph  from 


OKATOllICAL-SaBLIME   STYLE.  309 

among  yon  the  gravest,  wisest,  most  reverend  head.  Ah!  he  hag 
taken  him  as  a  trophy  who  was  once  chief  over  many  statesmen, 
adorned  with  virtue  and  learning  and  truth;  he  has  borne  at  his 
chariot  wheels  a  renowned  one  of  the  earth. 

4.  How  often  have  we  crowded  into  that  aisle,  and  clustered  around 
that  now  vacant  desk,  to  listen  to  the  counsels  of  wisdom  as  they  fell 
from  the  lips  of  the  venerable  sage,  we  can  all  remember,  for  it  was 
but  of  yesterday.  But  what  a  change  1  How  wondrous  I  how  sud- 
den 1  'Tis  like  a  vision  of  the  night.  That  form  which  we  beheld 
but  a  few  days  since  is  now  cold  in  death. 

5.  But  the  last  Sabbath,  and  in  this  hall,  he  worshiped  with  others. 
Now  his  spirit  mingles  with  the  noble  army  of  martyrs,  and  the  just 
made  perfect  in  the  eternal  adoration  of  the  living  God.  With  him, 
"  this  is  the  end  of  earth."  He  sleeps  the  sleep  that  knows  no 
waking.  He  is  gone — and  for  ever.  The  sun  that  ushers  in  the 
morn  of  that  next  holy  day,  while  it  gilds  the  lofty  dome  of  the  cap- 
itol,  shall  rest  with  soft  and  mellow  light  upon  the  consecrated  spot 
beneath  whose  turf  forever  Hes  the  patriot  father  and  the  patriot  sage. 


Death  of  Alexander  Hamilton. 

Dr.  Nott. 

1.  A  short  time  since  and  he  who  is  the  occasion  of  our  sorrows 
was  the  ornament  of  his  country.  He  stood  on  an  eminence,  and 
glory  covered  him.  From  that  eminence  he  has  fallen — suddenly, 
forever  fallen.  His  intercourse  with  the  living  world  is  now  ended ; 
and  those  who  would  hereafter  find  him  must  seek  him  in  the  grave. 
There,  cold  and  lifeless,  is  the  heart  which  just  now  was  the  seat  of 
friendship.  There,  dim  and  sightless  is  the  eye  whose  radiant  and 
enlivening  orb  beamed  with  intelligence ;  and  there,  closed  forever,  are 
those  lips  on  whose  persuasive  accents  we  have  so  often  and  so  lately 
hung  with  transport. 

2.  From  the  darkness  which  rests  upon  his  tomb  there  proceeds, 
methinks,  a  light  in  which  it  is  clearly  seen  that  those  gaudy  objects 
which  men  pursue  are  only  phantoms.  In  this  light  how  dimly 
shines  the  splendor  of  victory — how  humble  appears  the  majesty  of 
grandeur  1  The  bubble  which  seemed  to  have  so  much  solidity  has 
burst,  and  we  again  see  that  all  below  the  sun  is  vanity. 

3.  True,  the  funeral  eulogy  has  been  pronounced ;  the  sad  and  sol- 
emn procession  has  moved ;  the  badge  of  mourning  has  already  been 
decreed;  and  presently  the  sculptured  marble  will  lift  up  its  front, 


310  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

proud  to  perpetuate  the  name  of  Harailton,  and  rehearse  to  the  passing 
traveler  his  virtues. 

4.  J>ist  tributes  of  respect,  and  to  the  living  useful ;  but  to  him, 
moldering  in  his  narrow  and  humble  habitation,  what  are  they?  How 
vain  I     How  unavailing  ! 

6.  Approach  and  behold,  while  I  lift  from  his  sepulcher  its  covering. 
Ye  admirers  of  his  greatness,  ye  emulous  of  his  talents  and  his  fame, 
approach  and  behold  him  now.  How  pale  1  how  silent  1  No  martial 
bands  admire  the  adroitness  of  his  movements;  no  fascinated  throng 
weep  and  melt  and  tremble  at  his  eloqifence.  Amazing  change !  A 
shroud  1  a  coffin  1  a  narrow,  subterraneous  cabin  1  This  is  all  that 
now  remains  of  Hamilton.  And  is  this  all  that  remains  of  him  ? 
During  a  life  so  transitory,  what  lasting  monument,  then,  can  our 
fondest  hopes  erect  ? 

6.  My  brethren,  we  stand  on  the  borders  of  an  awful  gulf,  which  is 
swallowing  up  all  things  human.  And  is  there,  amid  this  universal 
wreck,  notliing  stable,  nothing  abiding,  nothing  immortal,  on  which 
poor,  frail,  dying  man  can  fasten  ? 

7.  Ask  the  hero,  ask  the  statesman,  whose  wisdom  you  have  been 
accustomed  to  revere,  and  he  will  tell  you.  He  will  tell  you,  did  I 
say  ?  He  has  already  told  you  from  his  death-bed,  and  his  illumined 
spirit  still  whispers  from  the  heavens,  with  well-known  eloquence,  the 
solemn  admonition :  "  Mortals,  hastening  to  the  tomb,  and  once  the 
companions  of  my  pilgrimage,  take  warning  and  avoid  my  errors ; 
cultivate  the  virtues  I  have  recommended ;  choose  the  Saviour  I  have 
chosen.  Live  disinterestedly — live  for  immortality.  And  would  you 
resc  le  any  thing  from  final  dissolution,  lay  it  up  in  God." 


IMPASSIONED  POETIC  STYLE.  811 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

.  IMPASSIONED  POETIC  STYLE. 

The  Impassioned  Poetic  Style  is  appropriate  for  the  de- 
livery of  impassioned  poetic  thought  and  feeling,  as  ex- 
pressed not  only  in  impassioned  poetry,  but  also  in  the 
impassioned  portions  of  speeches,  orations  and  sermons. 

Hate  of  the  Bowl, 

1.  Go,  feel  what  I  have  felt ; 

Gro,  bear  what  I  have  borne ; 
Sink  'neath  the  blow  a  father  dealt, 

And  the  cold  world's  proud  scorn : 
Then  suffer  on  from  year  to  year, 
Thy  sole  relief  the  scalding  tear. 

2.  Gro,  kneel  as  I  have  knelt ; 

Implore,  beseech  and  pray ; 
Strive  the  besotted  heart  to  melt, 

The  downward  course  to  stay ; 
Be  dashed  with  bitter  curse  aside. 
Your  prayers  burlesqued,  your  tears  defied. 

3.  GrO  weep  as  I  have  wept 

O'er  a  loved  father's  fall. 
See  every  promised  blessing  swept, 
•     Youth's  sweetness  turned  to  gall ; 
Life's  fading  flowers  strewed  all  the  way, 
That  brought  me  up  to  woman's  day. 

4.  Go,  see  what  I  have  seen ; 

Behold  the  strong  man  bow, 
With  gnashing  teeth,  lips  bathed  in  blood, 

And  cold  and  livid  brow. 
Go  catch  his  withering  glance,  and  see 
There  mirrored,  his  soul's  misery. 


312  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

5.  Go  to  thy  mother's  side, 

And  her  crushed  bosom  cheer ; 
Thine  own  deep  anguish  liide; 

Wipe  from  her  cheek  the  bitter  tear ; 
Mark  h^r  wan  cheek  and  paUid  brow, 
The  gray  that  streaks  her  dark  hair  now, 
Her  faihng  frame  and  trerabhng  limb ; 
And  trace  the  ruin  back  to  him 
"Whose  pUghted  faith,  in  early  youth, 
Promised  eternal  love  and  truth ; 
But  who,  forsworn,  hath  yielded  up 
That  promise  to  the  cursed  cup ; 
And  led  her  down,  through  love  and  light, 
And  all  that  made  her  prospects  bright ; 
And  chained  her  there,  'mid  want  and  strife, 
That  lowly  thing,  a  drunkard's  wife  ; 
And  stamped  on  childhood's  brow  so  mild, 
That  withering  blight,  a  drunkard's  child  1 

6.  Go,  hear  and  feel  and  see  and  know 

All  that  my  soul  hath  felt  and  known ; 
Then  look  upon  the  wine-cup's  glow, 

See  if  its  beauty  can  atone ; 
Think  if  its  flavor  you  will  try. 
When  all  proclaim,  'Tis  drink  and  die ! 

*l.  Tell  me  I  hate  the  bowl — 

Hate  is  a  feeble  word : 
I  loathe,  abhor ;  my  very  soul 

With  strong  disgust  is  stirred 
Whene'er  I  see,  or  hear,  or  tell 
Of  the  dark  beverage  of  hell. 


The  American  Flag. 

Joseph  Rodman  Drake, 

When  Freedom,  from  her  mountain  height, 
Unfurled  Jier  standard  to  the  air. 

She  tore  the  ttzure  robe  of  night. 
And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there ! 

She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes 

The  milky  baldric  of  the  skiea, 


IMPASSIONED  POETIC  STYLE*  813 

And  striped  its  pure  celestial  white 
With  streakings  of  the  morning  light ; 
Then,  from  his  mansion  in  the  sun,  ' 

She  called  her  eagle-bearer  down, 
And  gave  into  his  mighty  hand 
The  symbol  of  her  cliosen  land ! 

I.  Majestic  monarch  of  the  cloud  I 

Who  rear'st  aloft  thy  regal  form, 
To  hear  the  tempest  trumpings  loud, 
And  see  the  lightning-lances  driven, 

When  strive  the  warriors  of  the  storm, 
And  rolls  the  thunder-drum  of  heaven  I 
Child  of  the  sun  I  to  thee  'tis  given 

To  guard  the  banner  of  the  free, 
To  hover  in  the  sulphur  smoke, 
To  ward  away  the  battle-stroke, 
And  bid  its  blendings  shine  afar. 
Like  rainbows  on  the  cloud  of  war — 

The  harbingers  of  victory  1 

Z.  Flag  of  the  brave  1  thy  folds  shall  fly, 
The  sign  of  hope  and  triumph  high. 
When  speaks  the  signal  trumpet  tone, 
And  the  long  line  comes  gleaming  on — 
Ere  yet  the  life-blood,  warm  and  wet, 
Has  dimmed  the  glistening  bayonet — 
Each  soldier's  eye  shall  brightly  turn 
To  where  thy  sky-born  glories  burn ; 
And,  as  his  springing  steps  advance, 
Catch  war  and  vengeance  from  the  glance! 
And  when  the  cannon-mouthings  loud 
Heave  in  wild  wreaths  the  battle-shroud, 
And  gory  sabers  rise  and  fall. 
Like  shoots  of  flame  on  midnight's  pall ; 
Then  shall  thy  meteor  glances  glow. 

And  cowering  foes  shall  sink  beneata 
Each  gallant  arm  that  strikes  below 

That  lovely  messenger  of  death. 

4.  Flag  of  the  seas!  on  ocean  wavtj 
Thy  stars  shall  glitter  o'er  the  brave, 
When  Death,  careering  on  the  gale, 
Sweeps  darkly  round  the  bellied  sail, 


814  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

And  frighted  waves  rush  wildly  back, 
Before  the  broadside's  reeling  rack ; 
Each  dying  wanderer  of  the  sea 
Shall  look  at  once  to  heaven  and  thee, 
And  smile  to  see  thy  splendors  fly, 
In  triumph  o'er  his  closing  eye. 

6.  Flag  of  the  free  heart's  hope  and  home, 

By  angel  hands  to  valor  given ! 
Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome, 

And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven. 
For  ever  float  that  standard  sheet  1 

Where  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  us, 
With  Freedom's  soil  beneath  our  feet, 

And  Freedom's  banner  streaming  o'er  us? 


The  Rescue  of  Chicago. 

n.  M.  Look. 

I  saw  the  city's  terror, 

I  heard  the  city's  cry. 
As  a  flame  leaped  out  of  her  bosom 

Up,  up  to  the  brazen  sky  1 
And  wilder  rose  the  tumult, 

And  thicker  the  tidings  came — 
Chicago,  queen  of  the  cities, 

Is  a  roUing  sea  of  flame  I 

Yet  higher  rose  the  fury, 

And  louder  the  surges  raved, 
(Thousands  were  saved  but  to  sufier, 

And  hundreds  never  were  saved,) 
Till  out  of  the  awful  burning 

A  flash  of  lightning  went, 
As  across  to  fair  Saint  Louis 

The  prayer  for  succor  was  sent. 

God  bless  thee,  0  true  Saint  Louis  I 
So  worthy  thy  royal  name — 

Back,  back  on  the  wing  of  the  lightning 
Thy  answer  of  rescue  came; 


IMPASSIONED   POETIC.  815 

But,  alas  1  it  conld  not  enter 

Through  the  horrible  flame  and  heat, 
For  the  tire  had  conquered  the  lightning, 

And  sat  in  the  thunderer's  seat  I 

God  bless  thee  again,  Saint  Louis  1 

For  resting  never  then ; 
Thou  calledst  to  all  the  cities 

By  lightning  and  steam  and  pen : 
*  Ho,  ho,  ye  hundred  sisters, 

Stand  forth  in  your  bravest  might  I 
Our  sister  in  flame  is  falling, 

Her  children  are  dying  to-night  I " 

And  through  the  mighty  Republic 

Thy  summons  went  rolling  on, 
Till  it  rippled  the  seas  of  the  tropics, 

And  rufiied  tlie  Oregon; 
The  distant  Grolden  City 

Called  through  her  golden  gates, 
And  quickly  rung  the  answer 

From  the  City  of  the  Straits ; 

And  the  cities  that  sit  in  splendor 

Along  the  Atlantic  sea, 
Replying,  called  to  the  dwellers 

Where  the  proud  magnolias  be.  ' 
From  slumber  the  army  started 

At  the  far-resounding  call, 
"  Food  for  a  hundred  thousand. 

And  clothing  and  tents  for  all." 

I  heard  through  the  next  night's  darkness 

The  trains  go  thundering  by. 
Till  they  stood  where  the  fated  city 

Shone  red  in  the  brazen  sky. 
The  rich  gave  tlieir  abundance, 

The  poor  their  willing  hands ; 
Tliere  was  wine  from  all  the  vineyards, 

There  was  corn  from  all  the  lands. 

At  daybreak  over  the  prairies 

Re-echoed  the  gladsome  cry — 
**Ho,  look  unto  us,  ye  thousands, 

Yo  shall  not  hunger  nor  die  I " 


816  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Their  weeping  was  all  the  answer 
V    That  the  famishing  throng  could  give 
To  the  million  voices  calling: 
"  Look  unto  us,  and  hve  I  " 

Destruction  wasted  the  city, 

But  the  burning  curse  that  came 
Enkindled  in  all  the  people 

Sweet  charity's  holy  flamo. 
Then  still  to  our  God  be  glory ! 

I  bless  him,  through  my  tears, 
That  I  live  in  the  grandest  nation 

That  hath  stood  in  all  the  years. 


Sheridan's  Ride. 

T.  Buchanan  Bead. 


1.  Up  from  the  south  at  break  of  day, 
Bringing  to  Winchester  fresh  dismay, 
The  affrighted  air  with  a  shudder  bore, 

Like  a  herald  in  haste,  to  the  chieftain's  door 
The  terrible  grumble,  and  rumble,  and  roar, 
TeUing  the  battle  was  on  once  more, 
And  Sheridan  twenty  miles  away. 

2.  -And  wilder  still  those  billows  of  war 
Thundered  along  the  horizon's  bar ; 
And  louder  yet  into  Winchester  rolled 
The  roar  of  that  red  sea  uncontrolled, 
Making  the  blood  of  the  listener  cold, 

As  he  thought  of  the  stake  in  that  fiery  fray, 
And  Sheridan  twenty  miles  away. 

3    But  there  is  a  road  from  Winchester  town, 
A  good,  broad  highway  leading  down : 
And  there  through  the  flush  of  the  morning  light, 
A  steed,  as  black  as  the  steeds  of  night. 
Was  seen  to  pass,  as  with  eagle  flight ; 
As  if  he  knew  the  terrible  need, 
He  stretched  away  with  his  utmost  speed ; 
Hills  rose  and  fell;  but  his  heart  was  gay, 
With  Sheridan  fifteen  miles  away. 


IMPASSIONED   POETIC.  817 

[.  Still  sprung  from  those  swift  hoofs,  thundering  south,  . 
The  dust,  like  smoke  from  the  cannon's  mouth ; 
Or  tlie  trail  of  a  comet,  sweeping  faster  and  faster, 
Foreboding  to  traitors  the  doom  of  disaster. 
The  heart  of  tliQ  steed,  and  the  heart  of  the  master 
"Were  beating  like  prisoners  assaulting  their  walls, 
Impatient  to  be  where  the  battle-field  calls ; 
Every  nerve  of  the  charger  was  strained  to  full  play, 
Wit!:  Sheridan  only  ten  miles  away. 

>.  Under  his  spurning  feet,  the  road 
Like  an  arrowy  Alpine  river  flowed, 
And  the  landscape  sped  away  behind 
Like  an  ocean  flying  before  tlie  wind, 
And  the  steed,  hke  a  bark  fed  with  furnace  ire, 
Swept  on,  with  his  wild  eye  full  of  fire. 
But,  lo  I  he  is  nearing  his  heart's  desire : 
He  is  snuffing  the  smoke  O:^  the  roaring  fray, 
With  Sheridan  only  five  miles  away. 

The  first  that  the  General  saw  were  the  groups 
Of  stragglers,  and  then  the  retreating  troops ; 
What  was  done  ?  what  to  do  ?  a  glance  told  him  both, 
Then  striking  his  spurs,  with  a  terrible  oath, 
He  dashed  down  the  hue,  'mid  a  storm  of  huzzas. 
And  the  wave  of  retreat  checked  its  course  there,  because 
The  sight  of  the  master  compelled  it  to  pause. 
With  foam  and  with  dust  the  black  charger  was  gray; 
By  the  flash  of  his  eye,  and  his  rod  nostril's  play, 
He  seemed  to  the  whole  great  army  to  say, 
"  I  have  brought  you  Sheridan  all  the  way 
From  Winchester,  down  to  save  the  day." 

f.  Hurrah  I  hurrah  for  Sheridan  I 
Hurrah!  hurrah  for  horse  and  man  I 
And  when  tlieir  statues  are  placed  on  high 
Under  the  dome  of  the  Union  sky. 
The  American  soldiers'  Temple  of  Fame, 
There  with  the  glorious  General's  name 
Let  it  be  said  in  letters  botli  bold  and  bright: 
"  Here  is  the  steed  tliat  saved  the  day 
By  carrying  Sheridan  into  the  fight. 
From  Winchester — twenlv  miles  away!" 


318  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

SHOUTING  STYLE. 

The  Shouting  Style  is  chiefly  used  in  the  utterance  of 
those  words  and  phrases  which  are  employed  in  calling 
and  commanding.  But  few  selections  will  require  the 
Shouting  Style  throughout. 

In  the  selections  given,  with  the  exception  of  Tell's 
Address  to  the  Alps,  only  those  words  printed  in  italics 
require  the  Shouting  Style. 

The  Charge  of  the  Light  Bkigai>e. 


1.  Half  a  league,  half  a  league, 
Half  a  league  onward, 

All  in  the  valley  of  death 
Rode  the  six  hundred. 

"  Forward^  the  Light  Brigade  !  " 

"  Charge  for  the  guns,""  he  said. 

Into  the  valley  of  death 
Rode  the  six  hundred. 

2.  "  Forward  the  Light  Brigade  /  " 
"Was  there  a  man  dismayed  ? 
Not  tho'  the  soldiers  knew 

Some  one  had  blunder'd. 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  but  to  do  and  die. 
Into  the  valley  of  death 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 


SHOUTING  STYLE.  319 

.  Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  m  front  of  them 

Yolley'd  and  thunder'd; 
Sterra'd  at  with  shot  and  shell, 
Boldly  they  rode  and  well, 
Into  the  jaws  of  Death, 
Into  the  mouth  of  Hell 
Kode  the  six  hundred. 

Flash'd  all  their  sabers  bare, 
Flash'd  as  they  turn'd  in  air. 
Sabering  the  gunners  there, 
Charging  an  army,  while 

All  the  world  wonder'd: 
Plunged  in  the  battery-smoke, 
Right  through  the  line  they  broke; 
Cossack  and  Russian 
Reel'd  from  the  saber-stroke 

Shatter'd  and  sunder'd. 
Then  they  rode  back,  but  not, 
Not  the  six  hundred. 

.  Cannon  to  right  of  them. 
Cannon  to  left  of  them. 
Cannon  behind  them 

Yolley'd  and  thunder'd ; 
Storm'd  at  with  shot  and  shell, 
While  horse  and  hero  fell, 
They  that  had  fought  so  well 
Came  throngh  the  jaws  of  Death 
Back  from  the  mouth  of  Hell, 
All  that  was  left  of  them. 
Left  of  six  hundred. 

\.  When  can  their  glory  fade  ^ 
0  the  wild  charge  they  made! 

All  the  world  wonder'd. 
Honor  the  charge  they  made! 
Honor  the  Light  Brigade, 

Noble  Six  Hundred  I 


820  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Bugle    Song. 

Alfred  Tennyson. 

1.  The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls, 

And  snowy  summits  old  in  story; 
The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 
Bhw^  hugle,  blow;  set  the  wild  echoes  fiying ; 
Blow^  bugle;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying, 

2.  0  hark,  0  hear  I  how  thin  and  clear. 

And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going ; 
0  sweet  and  far,  from  cliff  and  scar, 

The  horns  of  Elf-land  f ainth^  blowing ! 
Blow;  let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying ; 
Blow,  bugle;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying, 

3.  0  love,  they  die  in  yon  rich  sky. 

They  faint  on  field,  on  hill,  on  river; 
Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul, 

And  grow  forever  and  forever. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow ;  set  the  wild  echoes  flying, 
And  answer,  echoes,  answer,  dying,  dying^  dying. 


From  Marmion  and  Douglas. 

ScoU. 

On  the  earl's  cheek  the  flush  of  rage 
O'ercame  the  ashen  hue  of  age ; 
Fierce  he  broke  forth,  "And  darest  thou,  then, 
To  beard  the  lion  in  his  den — 

The  Douglas  in  his  hall? 
And  hop'st  thou  hence  unscathed  to  go? 
No,  by  Saint  Bride  of  Both  well,  no ! 
Uj:)  drawbridge,  grooms  !  what,  warder,  ho  f 

Let  the  poQ^tcidlis  faUy 


SHOUTING  STYLE.  821 

Tell's  Address  to  the  Alps. 

J.  S.  Knowles. 

Ye  crags  and  peaks,  I'm  with  you  once  again  I 
I  hold  to  you  the  hands  you  lirst  beheld, 
To  show  they  still  are  free.     Methinks  I  hear 
A  spirit  in  your  echoes  answer  me, 
And  bid  your  tenant  welcome  to  his  home 
Again.     0  sacred  forms,  how  proud  you  look! 
How  high  you  lift  your  heads  into  the  sky  1 
How  huge  you  are  I  how  mighty,  and  how  free! 
Ye  are  things  that  tower,  that  shine,  whose  smile 
Makes  glad,  whose  frown  is  terrible,  whose  forms, 
Robed  or  unrobed,  do  all  the  impress  wear 
Of  awe  divine.     Ye  guards  of  liberty, 
I'm  with  you  once  again !     I  call  to  you 
With  all  my  voice !     I  hold  my  hands  to  you, 
To  show  they  still  are  free.     I  rush  to  you 
As  though  I  could  embrace  you. 


From  Marco  Bozzaris. 

Balleck. 

An  hour  passed  on ;  the  Turk  awoke. 

That  bright  dream  was  his  last. 
He  woke  to  hear  his  sentries  shriek, 
**7b  arms!  they  come!  the  Greek!  the  Greek f^ 
He  woke  to  die  'midst  flame  and  smoke, 
And  shout  and  groan  and  saber-stroke, 

And  death-shots  falling  thick  and  fast 
As  hghtnings  from  the  mountain  cloud, 
And  heard,  with  voice  as  trumpet  loud, 

Bozzaris  cheer  his  band  : 
"  Strike  !  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires  ; 
Strike!  for  your  altars  and  your  fires ; 
Strike  !  for  the  green  graves  of  your  stres^ 

God,  and  your  native  land  1 " 


21 


322  SCIEKCE  OF  ELOCUTION 


CHAPTER    XV. 

VEHEMENT  STYLE. 

The  "Vehement  Style  is  appropriate  for  \(i-».  expression  of 
intense  passion,  anger,  scorn,  revenge,  hate,  etc. 

Catiline's  Defiance. 

Croly, 

1.  Conscript  Fathers! 

I  do  not  rise  to  waste  the  night  in  words ; 
Let  that  plebeian,  talk ;  'tis  not  my  trade ; 
But  here  I  stand  for  right — let  him  show  proofs — 
For  Eoman  right ;  though  none,  it  seems,  dare  stand 
To  take  their  share  with  me.     Ay,  cluster  there  1 
Cling  to  your  master,  judges,  Eomans,  slaves  1 
His  charge  is  false ; — I  dare  him  to  his  proof. 
You  have  my  answer.    Let  my  actions  speak  I 

2.  But  this  I  will  avow,  that  I  have  scorned, 
And  still  do  scorn,  to  hide  my  sense  of  wrong  I 
Who  brands  me  on  the  forehead,  breaks  my  sword, 
Or  lays  the  bloody  scourge  upon  my  back, 
Wrongs  me  not  half  so  much  as  he  who  shuts 
The  gates  of  honor  on  me — turning  out 

The  Roman  from  his  birthright ;  and,  for  what  ? 
To  fling  your  ofiBces  to  every  slave  I 
Yipers,  that  creep  where  man  disdains  to  climb, 
And,  having  wound  their  loathsome  track  to  the  top 
Of  this  huge,  moldering  monument  of  Rome, 
Hang  hissing  at  the  nobler  man  below  I 
Come,  consecrated  lictors,  from  your  thrones  • 
Fhng  down  your  scepters ;  take  the  rod  and  ax 
And  make  the  mirder  as  you  make  the  law  I 

3.  Banished  from  Rome  I     What's  banished,  but  set  free 
From  daily  contact  with  the  things  I  loathe  ? 

"  Tried  and  convicted  traitor  1 "     Who  says  this  ? 
Who'll  prove  it,  at  his  peril,  on  my  head  ? 


VEHEMENT  STYLE.  823 

4.  Banish'dl  I  thank  you  for't.     It  breaks  my  chain! 
I  held  some  slack  allegiance  till  this  hour ; 
But  now  my  sword's  my  own.     Smile  on,  my  lords  I 
I  scorn  to  count  what  feelings,  withered  hopes, 
Strong  provocations,  bitter,  burning  wrongs, 
I  have  within  my  heart's  hot  cells  shut  up, 
To  leave  you  in  your  lazy  dignities. 
But  here  I  stand  and  scoff  you  1  here,  I  fling 
Hatred  and  full  defiance  in  your  face  I 
Your  consul's  merciful — for  tliis  all  thanks; 
He  dares  not  touch  a  hair  of  Catiline  1 

6    "  Traitor  1 "     I  go ;  but  I  return.     This— trial  ? 
Here  I  devote  your  senate  1     I've  had  wrongs 
To  stir  a  fever  in  the  blood  of  age. 
Or  make  the  infant's  sinews  strong  as  steel. 
This  day's  the  birth  of  sorrow  1     This  hour's  work 
Will  breed  proscriptions  I     Look  to  your  hearths,  my  ordsl 
For  there,  henceforth,  shall  sit,  %r  houseliold  gods, 
Shapes  hot  from  Tartarus  1 — all  Jiames  and  crimes  I 
Wan  treachery,  with  his  thirsty  dagger  drawn; 
Suspicion,  poisoning  his  brother's  cup ; 
Naked  rebellion,  with  the  torch  and  ax, 
Making  his  mid  sport  of  your  blazing  thrones ; 
Till  anarchy  comes  down  on  you  like  night, 
And  massacre  seals  Rome's  eternal  gravel 

6.  I  go ;  but  not  to  leap  the  gulf  alone. 

I  go ;  but,  when  I  come,  'twill  be  the  burst 

Of  ocean  in  the  earthquake — rolling  back 

In  swift  and  mountainous  ruin.     Fare  you  well  I 

You  build  my  funeral  pile  ;  but  your  best  blood 

Shall  quench  its  flame  1     Back,  slaves  1     I  will  return ! 


The  Seminole's  Defiance. 

O,  TT.  Pattm. 

1.  Blaze,  with  your  serried  columns  I     I  will  not  bend  the  knee; 
The  shackle  ne'er  again  shall  bind  the  arm  which  now  is  free! 
I've  mailed  it  with  the  thunder,  when  the  tempest  muttered  low; 
And  where  it  falls,  ye  well  may  dread  the  lightning  of  its  blow. 


824  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

I've  scared  you  in  the  city;  I've  scalped  you  on  the  plain; 
Go,  count  your  chosen  where  thej  fell  beneath  my  leaden  rain  1 
I  scorn  your  proffered  treaty ;  the  pale-face  I  defy ; 
Revenge  is  stamped  upon  my  spear,  and  "blood"  my  battle-crj  I 

2.  Some  strike  for  hope  of  booty ;  some  to  defend  their  all — 
I  battle  for  the  joy  I  have  to  see  the  white  man  fall. 
I  love,  among  the  wounded,  to  hear  his  dying  moan, 
And  catch,  while  chanting  at  his  side,  the  music  of  his  groan. 
You've  trailed  me  through  the  forest;  you've  tracked  me  o'er  the 

stream ; 
And  struggling  through  the  everglade  your  bristling  bayonets 

gleam. 
But  I  stand  as  should  the  warrior,  with  his  rifle  and  his  spear ; 
The  scalp  of  vengeance  still  is  red,  and  warns  you — "  Come  not 

here  1 " 

3    Think  ye  to  find  my  homestead  ? — I  gave  it  to  the  fire, 
My  tawny  household  do  you  seek  ? — I  am  a  childless  sire. 
But,  should  you  crave  life's  nourishment,  enough  I  have,  and  good ; 
I  live  on  hate — 'tis  all  my  bread ;  yet  light  is  not  my  food. 
I  loathe  you  with  my  bosom !  I  scorn  you  with  mine  eye  I 
And  I'll  taunt  you  with  my  latest  breath,  and  fight  you  till  I  die  I 
I  ne'er  will  ask  for  quarter,  and  I  ne'er  will  be  your  slave ; 
But  I'll  swim  the  sea  of  slaughter  till  I  sink  beneath  the  wave ! 


Spaktacus  to  the  Gladiators  of  Capua. 

E.  Kellogg. 

1.  Ye  call  me  chief;  and  ye  do  well  to  call  him  chief  who,  for  twelva 
long  years,  has  met  upon  the  arena  every  shape  of  man  or  beast  the 
broad  empire  of  Rome  could  furnish,  and  who  never  yet  lowered  his 
arm.  If  there  be  one  among  you  who  can  say,  that  ever,  in  public 
fight  or  private  brawl,  my  actions  did  belie  my  tongue,  let  him  stand 
forth  and  say  it.  If  there  be  three  in  all  your  company  dare  face  r/ie 
on  the  bloody  sands,  let  them  come  on.  And  yet  I  was  not  always 
thus — a  hired  butcher,  a  savage  chief  of  still  more  savage  men  1 

2.  My  ancestors  came  from  old  Sparta,  and  settled  among  the  vine- 
clad  rocks  and  citron-groves  of  Cjo-asella.  My  early  life  ran  quiet  as 
the  brooks  by  which  I  sported ;  and  when,  at  noon,  I  gathered  the 
sheep  beneath  the  shade,  and  played  upon  the  shepherd's  flute,  there 


VEHEMENT  STYLE.  325 

was  a  friend,  the  son  of  a  neighbor,  to  join  me  in  the  pastime.    "We  led 
our  flocks  to  the  same  pasture,  and  partook  together  our  rustic  meal. 

3.  One  evening,  after  the  sheep  were  folded,  and  we  were  all  seated 
beneath  the  myrtle  which  shaded  our  cottage,  my  grandsire,  an  old 
man,  was  telling  of  Marathon  and  Leuctra ;  and  how,  in  ancient  times, 
a  little  band  of  Spartans,  in  a  defile  of  the  mountaias,  had  withstood 
a  whole  army.  I  did  not  then  know  what  war  was ;  but  my  cheeks 
burned,  I  knew  not  why,  and  I  clasped  the  knees  of  that  venerable 
man,  until  my  mother,  parting  the  hair  from  off  my  forehead,  kissed 
my  throbbing  temples  and  bade  me  go  to  rest,  and  think  no  more  of 
those  old  tales  and  savage  wars.  That  very  night  the  Romans  landed 
on  our  coast.  I  saw  the  breast  that  had  nourished  me  trampled  by 
the  hoof  of  the  war-horse ;  the  bleeding  body  of  my  father  flung  amid 
the  blazing  rafters  of  our  dwelling  1 

4.  To-day  I  killed  a  man  in  the  arena;  and,  when  I  broke  his 
helmet-clasps,  behold  I  he  was  my  friend.  He  knew  me,  smiled 
faintly,  gasped,  and  died — the  same  sweet  smile  upon  his  lips  that 
T  had  marked  when,  in  adventurous  boyhood,  we  scaled  the  lofty 
cliff  to  pluck  the  first  ripe  grapes,  and  bear  them  home  in  childish 
triumph  I  I  told  the  praetor  that  the  dead  man  had  been  my  friend, 
generous  and  brave ;  and  I  begged  that  I  might  bear  away  the  body 
and  burn  it  on  a  funeral  pile,  and  mourn  over  its  ashes.  Ay,  upon 
my  knees,  amid  the  dust  and  blood  of  the  arena,  I  begged  that  poor 
boon,  while  all  the  assembled  maids  and  matrons,  and  the  holy  virgins 
they  call  Yestals,  and  the  rabble,  shouted  in  derision,  deeming  it  rare 
sport,  forsooth,  to  see  Rome's  fiercest  gladiator  turn  pale  and  tremble 
at  sight  of  that  piece  of  bleeding  clay  1  And  the  praetor  drew  back  as 
I  were  pollution,  and  sternly  said,  ''Let  the  carrion  rot;  there  are  no 
noble  men  but  Romans  I"  And  so,  fellow-gladiators,  must  you,  and 
so  must  I,  die  like  dogs. 

5.  O,  Rome  I  Rome  I  thou  hast  been  a  tender  nurse  to  me.  Ay, 
thou  hast  given  to  that  poor,  gentle,  timid  shepherd-lad,  who  never 
knew  a  harsher  tone  than  a  flute  note,  muscles  of  iron  and  a  heart  of 
flint ;  taught  him  to  drive  the  sword  through  plaited  mail  and  linka 
of  rugged  brass,  and  warm  it  in  the  marrow  of  his  foe ;  to  gaze  into 
the  glaring  eye-balls  of  the  fierce  Numidian  lion,  even  as  a  boy  upon 
a  laughing  girl!  And  he  shall  pay  thee  back,  until  the  yellow 
Tiber  is  red  as  frothing  wine,  and  in  its  deepest  ooze  life-blood  lies 
curdled  1 

6.  Ye  stand  here  now  like  giants,  as  ye  are  I  The  strength  of  brasa 
is  in  your  toughened  sinews;  but  to-morrow  some  Roman  Adonis, 
bieathing  sweet  perfume  from  his  curly  locks,  shall  with  his  lily 


326  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTIOK. 

fingers  pat  your  red  brawn,  and  bet  Ms  sesterces  upon  your  blood. 
Hark  i  hear  ye  yon  lion  roaring  in  his  den  ?  'Tis  three  days  since  he 
tasted  flesh ;  but  to-morrow  he  shall  break  his  fast  upon  yours,  and  a 
dainty  meal  for  him  ye  will  be  1 

7.  If  ye  are  beasts,  then  stand  here  like  fat  oxen,  waiting  for  the 
butcher's  knife !  If  ye  are  men — follow  me !  Strike  down  yon  guard, 
gain  the  mountain  passes,  and  there  do  bloody  work,  as  did  your  sires 
at  old  Thermopylae  1  Is  Sparta  dead?  Is  the  old  Grecian  spirit 
frozen  in  your  vems,  that  you  do  crouch  and  cower  like  a  belabored 
hound  beneath  his  master's  lash  ?  0  comrades  I  warriors !  Thracians  I 
if  we  must  fight,  let  us  fight  for  ourselves  I  If  we  must  slaughter,  let 
us  slaughter  our  oppressors!  If  we  must  die,  let  it  be  under  the 
clear  sky,  by  the  bright  waters,  in  noble,  honorable  battle  I 


DBAMATiC  STYLE.  827 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

DRAMATIC  STYLE. 

Ywii  Dramatic  is  simply  a  combination  of  the  pre* 
vio\ii4  styles.  The  difficulty,  in  the  delivery  of  selec- 
tions in  the  Dramatic  Style,  is  in  giving  the  sudden 
transition  from  one  style  to  another,  which  so  frequently 
occurs. 

The  following  analysis  will  sufficiently  illustrate  the 
combination  of  styles  and  the  rapid  transitions  : 

Fbom  on  Board  the  Cumberland,  March  7,  1862. 

George  E.  Boker. 

1.  "  Stand  to  your  guns,  men !  "  Morris  cried ; 

Small  need  to  pass  the  word; 
Our  men  at  quarters  ranged  themselves 
Before  the  drum  was  heard. 

2.  And  then  began  the  sailors'  jests : 

*' What  thing  is  that,  I  say  ?  " 
**A  'long-shore  meeting-house,  adrift, 
Is  standing  down  the  bay  1 " 

3.  A  frown  came  over  Morris'  face ; 

The  strange,  dark  craft  he  knew: 
"  That  is  the  iron  Merrimac, 
Manned  by  a  rebel  crew." 

In  the  above  extract,  "  Stand  to  your  guns,  men  ! " 
should  be  given  in  the  Shouting  Style  ;  "  Morris  cried," 
changes  to  the  Didactic  Style ;  "  Small  need  to  pass  the 
word,"  etc.,  should  be  given  in  the  Grave  Style ;  "And 
then  began  the  sailor's  jests,"  requires  the  Lively  Style; 


328  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTIOK. 

while  "  What  thing  is  that,  I  say  ? "  etc.,  can  only  be 
appropriately  given  in  the  Gay  or  Joyous  Style. 

"  A  frown  came  over  Morris'  face,"  etc.,  requires  the 
Grave  Style,  while  "  That  is  the  iron  Merrimac,"  etc., 
will  require  the  Oratorical  Style. 

Thus,  it  will  bo  seen,  there  is  a  constant  change  of 
style  with  almost  every  line. 

An  analysis  of  any  dramatic  selection  will  disclose  a 
similar  combination  of  styles.  'No  one  should  attempt 
to  read  or  speak  a  selection  of  the  Dramatic  Style  with- 
out first  carefully  analyzing  it,  not  merely  to  compre- 
hend clearly  the  thought,  but  to  discover  the  various 
styles  of  utterance  it  will  require.  It  cannot  be  too 
earnestly  impressed  upon  the  mind  of  the  pupil  that  the 
comprehension  of  the  sentiment  does  not  imply  the  ap- 
propriate vocal  delivery. 

Abou  Ben-Adhem. 

Leigh  Emit, 

1.  Abou  Ben-Adhem  (may  his  tribe  increase !) 
Awoke  one  night  from  a  deep  dream  of  peace, 
And  saw,  within  the  moonb'ght  in  his  room, 
Making  it  rich,  and  like  a  hly  in  bloom, 

An  angel,  writing  in  a  book  of  gold. 
Exceeding  peace  liad  made  Ben-Adhem  bold ; 
And  to  the  presence  in  the  room  he  said, 
"  What  writest  thou  ?  "     The  vision  raised  its  head, 
And,  with  a  look  made  all  of  sweet  accord. 
Answered,  "  The  names  of  those  who  love  the  Lord." 
"  And  is  mine  one  ?  "  said  Abou.     "  Nay,  not  so," 
Replied  the  angel.     Abou  spake  more  low. 
But  cheerily  still,  and  said,  "  I  pray  thee,  then, 
Write  me  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow-men.'* 

2.  The  angel  wrote,  and  vanished.     The  next  night 
It  came  again,  with  a  great  wakening  light. 

And  showed  the  names  whom  love  of  God  had  blessed. 
And  lo,  Ben-Adhem's  name  led  all  the  rest. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  S29 

The    Sexton. 

Park  Benjamin. 

Nigh  to  a  grave  that  was  newly  made, 
Leaned  a  sexton  old  on  bis  earth-worn  spade; 
His  work  was  done,  and  he  paused  to  wait 
The  fuaeral-train  at  the  open  gate. 
A  relic  of  by-gone  days  was  he, 
And  his  locks  were  gray  as  the  foamy  sea ; 
And  these  words  came  from  his  lips  so  thin : 
**  I  gather  them  in — I  gather  them  in — 
G-ftther — gather — I  gather  them  in. 

"  Many  are  with  me,  yet  I'm  alone ; 

I'm  King  of  the  Dead,  and  I  make  my  throne 

On  a  monumeiit  slab  of  marble  cold — 

My  sceptre  of  rule  is  the  spade  I  hold. 

Come  they  from  cottage,  or  come  they  from  hall, 

Mankind  are  my  subjects,  all,  all,  all  I 

May  they  loiter  in  pleasure,  or  toilfully  spin, 

I  gather  them  in — I  gather  them  in." 

"T  gather  them  in,  and  their  fiual  rest 

Is  here,  down  here,  in  the  earth's  dark  breast !" 

And  the  sexton  ceased  as  the  funeral-train 

"Wound  mutely  over  that  solemn  plain ; 

And  I  said  to  myself:  When  time  is  told, 

A  mfghtier  voice  than  that  sexton's  old, 

"Will  be  heard  o'er  the  last  trump's  dreadful  din ; 

•'  I  gather  them  in — I  gather  them  in — 

Gather — gather — gather  them  in." 


Curfew  must  not  Ring  To-night. 

Rosa  A.  Hartwick. 

1.  England's  sun  was  slowly  sotting  o'er  the  hills  so  far  awajr, 
filling  all  the  land  with  beauty  at  the  close  of  one  sad  day; 
And  the  last  rays  kiss'd  the  forehead  of  a  man  and  maiden  fair, 
He  with  step  so  slow  and  weakened,  she  with  sunny,  floating  hair ; 


830  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

He  wiin  sad,  bowed  head,  and  thoughtful;  she  with  lips  so  cold  and 

white, 
Struggling  to  keep  back  the  murmur,  "  Curfew  must  not  ring  to-night." 

2.  "Sexton,"  Bessie's  white  lips  faltered,  pointing  to  the  prison  old, 
With  its  walls  so  dark  and  gloomy — walls  so  dark,  and  damp,  and 

cold — 
"  I've  a  lover  in  that  prison,  doomed  this  very  night  to  die 
At  the  ringing  of  the  Curfew,  and  no  earthly  help  is  nigh. 
Cromwell  will  not  come  till  sunset,"  and  her  face  grew  strangely 

white, 
As  she  spoke  in  husky  whispers,  *'  Curfew  must  not  ring  to-night." 

3.  "  Bessie,"  calmly  spoke  the  sexton — every  word  pierced  her  young 

heart 
Like  a  thousand  gleaming  arrows,  like  a  deadly  poisoned  dart; 
*    "  Long,  long  years  I've  rung  the  Curfew  from  that  gloomy  shadowed 

tower ; 
Every  evening,  just  at  sunset,  it  has  told  the  twilight  hour; 
I  have  done  my  duty  ever,  tried  to  do  it  just  and  right ; 
Now  I'm  old,  I  will  not  miss  it ;  girl,  the  Curfew  rings  to-night ! " 

4.  Wild  her  eyes  and  pale  her  features,  stern  and  white  her  thought- 

ful brow, 
And  within  her  heart's  deep  center,  Bessie  made  a  solemn  vow ; 
She  had  listened  while  the  judges  read,  without  a  tear  or  sigh, 
*' At  the  ringing  of  the  Curfew  Basil  Underwood  must  die." 
And  her  breath  came  fast  and  faster,  and  her  eyes  grew  large  ana 

bright — 
One  low  murmur,  scarcely  spoken — "  Curfew  must  not  ring  to-night  I  " 

5.  She  with   light  step   bounded   forward,    sprang   within   the  old 

church  door. 
Left  the  old  man  coming  slowly  paths  he'd  trod  so  oft  before ; 
Not  one  moment  paused  the  maiden,  but  with  cheek  and  brow  aglow 
Staggered  up  the  gloomy  tower,  where  the  bell  swung  to  and  fro: 
Then  she  climbed  the  slimy  ladder,  dark,  without  one  ray  of  light. 
Upward  still,  her  pale  lips  saying:   "Curfew  shall  not  ring  to-night.'* 

6.  She  has  reached  the  topmost  ladder;  o'er  her  hangs  the  great  dark 

bell; 
And  the  awful  gloom  beneath  her,  like  the  pathway  down  to  hell; 


DRAMATIC   STYLE.  881 

See,  tlie  ponderous  tongue  is  swinging ;  'tis  the  bour  of  Curfew  now— 
A  "id  the  sight  has  chilled  her  bosom,  stopped  her  breath,  and  paled 

her  brow. 
Shall  she  let  it  ring  ?     No,  never  1  her  eyes  flash  with  sudden  light, 
As  she  springs  and  grasps  it  firmly — *' Curfew  shall  not  ring  to-night.' 

*7.  Out  she  swung,  far  out,  the  city  seemed  a  tiny  speck  below; 
There,  'twixt  heaven  and  earth  suspended,  as  the  bell  swung  to  and 

fro; 
And  the  half-deaf  sexton  ringing,  (years  he  had  not  heard  the  bell,) 
And  he  thought  the  twilight  Curfew  rung  young  Basil's  funeral  knell ; 
Still  the  maiden  clinging  firmly,  cheek  and  brow  so  pale  and  white, 
Still'd  her  frightened  heart's  wild  beating — "Curfew  shall  not  ring  to- 
night." 

8.  It  was  o'er — the  bell  ceased  swaying,  and  the  maiden  stepped  once 

more 
Firmly  on  tlie  damp  old  ladder,  where  for  hundred  years  before 
Human  foot  had  not  been  planted ;  and  what  she  this  night  had  done 
Should  be  told  in  long  years  after — as  the  rays  of  setting  sun 
Light  the  sky  with  mellow  beauty,  aged  sires,  with  heads  of  white, 
Tell  their  children  why  the  Curfew  did  not  ring  that  one  sad  night. 

9.  O'er  the  distant  hills  came  Cromwell;  Bessie  saw  him,  and  her 

brow, 
Lately  white  with  sickening  terror,  glows  with  sudden  beauty  now; 
At  his  feet  she  told  her  story,  showed  her  hands  all  bruised  and  torn; 
And  her  sweet  young  face,  so  haggard,  with  a  look  so  sad  and  worn, 
Touched  his  heart  with  sudden  pity — lit  his  eyes  with  misty  light ; 
"Go,   your  lover  lives!"  cried  Cromwell;   "Curfew  must  not  rirg 

to-night." 


John  Bur^sts  of  Gettys burgh. 

F.  Bret  Harie. 

1.  Have  you  heard  the  story  that  gossips  tell 
Of  Burns  of  Gettysburgh  ?     No  ?     Ah,  well  I 
Brief  is  the  glory  that  hero  earns. 
Briefer  the  story  of  poor  John  Burns; 


SS2  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION*. 

He  was  the  fellow  who  won  renown — 

The  only  man  who  didn't  back  down 

When  the  rebels  rode  through  liis  native  town; 

But  held  his  own  in  the  fight  next  day, 

"When  all  his  townsfolk  ran  away.         i  f 

That  was  in  July,  sixty-three,     |  j 

The  very  day  that  G-eneral  Lee, 

The  flower  of  Southern  chivalry. 

Baffled  and  beaten,  backward  reeled 

From  a  stubborn  Meade  and  a  barren  field. 

2.  I  might  tell  how,  but  the  day  before, 
John  Burns  stood  at  his  cottage-door, 
Looking  down  the  village  street, 

"Where,  in  the  shade  of  his  peaceful  vine, 
He  heard  the  low  of  his  gathered  kine. 
And  felt  their  breath  with  incense  sweet ; 
Or,  I  might  say,  when  the  sunset  burned 
,\  The  old  farm  gable,  he  thought  it  turned 
The  milk  that  fell  in  a  babbling  flood 
Into  the  milk-pail,  red  as  blood ; 
Or,  how  he  fancied  the  hum  of  bees 
Were  bullets  buzzing  among  the  trees. 
But  all  such  fanciful  thoughts  as  these 
Were  strange  to  a  practical  man  like  Burns, 
Who  minded  only  his  own  concerns. 
Troubled  no  more  by  fancies  fine 
Than  one  of  his  calm-eyed,  long- tailed  kine — 
Quite  old-fashioned,  and  matter-of-fact, 
Slow  to  argue,  but  quick  to  act. 
That  was  the  reason,  as  some  folks  say, 
He  fought  so  well  on  that  terrible  day. 

3.  And  it  was  terrible.     On  the  right      \  v 
Raged  for  hours  the  heavy  fight,       \"^ 
Thimdered  the  battery's  double  bass — 
Difficult  music  for  men  to  face  ; 

v  '■•  While  on  the  left — where  now  the  graves 
Undulate  like  the  living  waves  ^ ' 
That  all  the  day  unceasing  swept 
Up  to  the  pits  the  rebels  kept — 
Round  shot  plowed  the  upland  glades. 
Sown  with  bullets,  reaped  with  blades ; 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  333 

Shattered  fences  here  and  there     ^ 

Tossed  their  splinters  in  the  air ; 

The  very  trees  were  stripped  and  bare ; 

The  barns  that  once  held  yellow  grain 

"Were  heaped  with  harvests  of  the  slain ; 

The  cattle  bellowed  ocTthe  plain, 

The  turkeys  screamed  with  might  and  main. 

And  brooding  barn-fowl  left  Jieir  rest 

"With  strange  shells  bursting  in  each.  nest. 

4.  Just  where  the  tide  of  battle  turns, 
Erect  and  lonely  stood  old  John  Burns. 

5.  How  do  you  think  the  man  was  dressed  ? 
He  wore  an  ancient,  long  buff  vest, 
Yellow  as  saffron,  but  his  best ; 

And  buttoned  over  his  manly  breast 

Was  a  bright  blue  coat  with  a  rolling  collar,  ^ ' 

And  large  gilt  buttons — size  of  a  dollar — 

With  tails  that  country-folk  called  "  swaller." 

He  wore  a  broad-brimmed,  bell-crowned  hat, 

White  as  the  locks  on  which  it  sat. 

Never  had  such  a  sight  been  seen 

Eor  forty  years  on  the  village-green, 

Since  old  John  Burns  was  a  country  beau, 

And  went  to  the  "  quilting  "  long  ago. 

6.  Close  at  his  elbows  all  that  day 
Yeterans  of  the  Peninsula, 
Sunburnt  and  bearded,  charged  away, 
And  striplings,  downy  of  lip  and  chin. 
Clerks  that  the  Home  G-uard  mustered  in, 
Glanced  as  they  passed  at  the  hat  he  woro, 
Then  at  the  rifle  his  right  hand  bore  ; 

And  hailed  him  from  out  their  youthful  lore, 
With  scraps  of  a  slangy  repertoire  : 
"  How  are  you.  White  Hat  ?  "     *'  Put  her  through  I  ^ 
"  Your  head's  level  1  "  and,  "  Bully  for  you  I  " 
Called  him  *'  Daddy,"  and  begged  he'd  disclose 
The  name  of  the  tailor  who  made  his  clothes, 
And  what  was  the  value  he  set  on  those ; 
While  Burns,  unmindful  of  jeer  and  scoff, 
Stood  there  picking  the  rebels  off —      \ 


834  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

With  Ms  long,  brown  rifle  and  bell-crown  hat, 
And  the  swallow-tails  they  were  laughing  at. 

7.  'Twas  but  a  moment,  for  that  respect 

"Which  clothes  all  courage  their  voices  checked; 

And  something  the  wildest  could  understand, 

Spake  in  the  old  man's  strong  right  hand, 

And  his  corded  throat,  and  the  lurking  frown 

Of  his  eyebrows  under  his  old-bell  crown ; 

Until,  as  they  gazed,  there  crept  an  awe 

Through  the  ranks  in  whispers,  and  some  men  saw 

In  the  antique  vestments  and  long  white  hair, 

The  Past  of  the  Nation  in  battle  there. 

And  some  of  the  soldiers  since  declare 

That  the  gleam  of  his  old  white  hat  afar,     - 

Like  the  crested  plume  ol  the  brave  Navarre,  ^'^ 

That  day  was  their  oriflamme  of  war. 

Thus  raged  the  battle.     You  know  the  rest; 

How  the  rebels,  beaten,  and  backward  pressed. 

Broke  at  the  final  charge  and  ran. 

At  which  John  Burns,  a  practical  man, 

Shouldered  his  rifle,  unbent  his  brows, 

And  then  went  back  to  his  bees  and  cows. 

8.  That  is  the  story  of  old  John  Burns; 
This  is  the  moral  the  hearer  learns : 

In  fighting  life's  battle  the  question's  whether 
You'll  show  a  hat  that's  white,  or  a  feather? 


Poor  Little  Jim. 

The  cottage  was  a  thatched  one,  the  outside  old  and  mean, 
But  all  within  that  little  cot  was  wondrous  neat  and  clean ; 
The  night  was  dark  end  stormy,  the  wind  was  howling  wild, 
As  a  patient  mother  sat  beside  the  death-bed  of  her  child: 
A  little  worn-out  creature,  his  once  bright  eyes  grown  dim : 
It  was  a  collier's  wife  and  child,  they  called  him  little  Jim. 

.  And  0 1  to  see  the  briny  tears  fast  hurrying  down  her  cheek. 
As  she  offered  up  the  prayer,  in  thought,  she  was  afraid  to  speak, 
Lest  she  might  waken  one  she  loved  far  better  than  her  life ; 
For  she  had  all  a  mother's  heart,  had  tliat  poor  collier's  wifo. 
"With  hands  uplifted,  see,  she  kneels  beside  the  sufferer's  bed. 
And  prays  that  God  would  spare  her  boy,  and  take  herself  instead. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  835 

3.  She  gets  her  answer  from  the  child :  soft  fall  the  words  from  him, 
"  Mother,  the  angels  do  so  smile,  and  beckon  little  Jim. 

I  have  no  pain,  dear  mother,  now ;  but  01  I  am  so  dry, 
Just  moisten  poor  Jim's  lips  again,  and,  mother,  don't  you  cry.'* 
"With  gentle,  trembling  haste  she  held  the  liquid  to  his  lip ; 
He  smiled  to  thank  her  as  he  took  each  little,  tiny  sip. 

4,  "Tell  father,  when  he  t3omes  from  work,  I  said  good-night  to  him 
And,  mother,  now  I'll  go  to  sleep."     Alas  1  poor  little  Jim  I 
She  knew  that  he  was  dying ;  that  the  child  she  loved  so  dear 
Had  uttered  the  last  words  that  she  might  ever  hope  to  hear : 
The  cottage  door  is  opened,  the  collier's  step  is  heard, 

Tlie  father  and  the  mother  meet,  yet  neither  speaks  a  word. 

5   He  felt  that  all  was  over,  he  knew  his  child  was  dead ; 
He  took  the  candle  in  his  hand  and  walked  toward  the  bed , 
His  quivering  lips  gave  token  of  the  grief  he'd  fain  conceal, 
And  see,  his  wife  has  joined  him — the  stricken  couple  kneel : 
With  hearts  bowed  down  by  sadness,  they  humbly  ask  of  Him, 
In  heaven  once  more  to  meet  again  their  own  poor  little  Jim. 


The  Gambler's  Wife. 

Coates. 

1.  Dark  is  the  niglit  I  how  dark — no  light — no  fire  I 
Cold,  on  the  hearth,  the  last  faint  sparks  expire  I 
Shivering  she  watches  by  the  cradle  side 

For  him  who  pledged  her  love — last  year  a  bride  I 

2.  "Harkl  'tis  his  footstep  I     No — 'tis  past;  'tis  gone: 
Tick  1 — Tick  1 — How  wearily  the  time  crawls  on  I 
Why  should  he  leave  me  thus  ?     He  once  was  kind  I    . 
And  I  believed  'twould  last — how  mad ! — how  blind  I 

3.  "Rest  thee,  my  babe! — rest  onl — 'tis  hunger's  cryl 
Sleep  1 — for  there  is  no  food !  the  fount  is  dry  1 
Famine  and  cold  their  wearying  work  have  done, 

My  heart  must  break  1 — and  thou  I  "     The  clock  strikes  one. 

4.  "  Hush  1  'tis  the  dice-box  1     Yes,  he's  there,  he's  there, 
For  this !  for  this  he  leaves  me  to  despair  1 

Leaves  love  I  leaves  truth  I  his  wife!  his  child  I  for  what? 
The  wanton's  smile — the  villain — and  the  sot! 


886  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

5.  "Yet  I'll  not  curse  him  I     No !  'tis  all  in  vain! 
*Tis  long  to  wait,  but  sure  he'll  come  again  1 
And  I  could  starve  and  bless  him,  but  for  you, 

My  child  I — his  child  I — 0  fiend  I "    The  clock  strikes  two. 

6.  "Hark  I  how  the  sign-board  creaks  I     The  blast  howls  by! 
Moan  I  moanl     A  dirge  swells  through  the  cloudy  sky  I 
Ha  1  'tis  his  knock !  he  comes  1 — he  comes  once  more  I 
'Tis  but  the  lattice  flaps  I     Thy  hope  is  o'er. 

1.  "  Can  he  desert  me  thus  ?    He  knows  I  stay 
Night  after  night  in  loneliness  to  pray 
For  his  return — and  yet  he  sees  no  tear  1 
No  1  no  I  it  cannot  be.     He  will  be  here. 

8.  "  Nestle  more  closely,  dear  one,  to  my  heart  I 
Thou'rt  cold !  thou'rt  freezing  I     But  we  will  not  part. 
Husband  I — I  die  I — Father! — It  is  not  hel 

0  God  I  protect  my  child  I "     The  clock  strikes  three. 

9.  They're  gone  1  they're  gone  1  the  glimmering  spark  hath  fl©4  J 
The  wife  and  child  are  numbered  with  the  dead  I 

On  the  cold  hearth,  out-stretched  in  solemn  rest, 
The  child  Ues  frozen  on  its  mother's  breast  1 
The  gambler  came  at  last — but  all  was  o'er — 
Dead  silence  reigned  around — The  clock  struck  four  I 


The  Beautiful  Snow. 

James  W.  WaUofU 

O  the  snow,  the  beautiful  snow ! 
Filling  the  sky  and  earth  below ! 
Over  the  house-tops,  over  the  street, 
Over  the  heads  of  the  people  you  meet, 
Dancing, 
Fhrting, 

Skimming  along; 
Beautiful  snow  1  it  can  do  no  wrong ; 
Flying  to  kiss  a  fair  lady's  cheek, 
CUnging  to  lips  in  a  frolicsome  freak, 
Beautiful  snow  from  the  heaven  above, 
Pure  as  an  angel,  but  fickle  as  love  I 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  837 

2.  0  the  snow,  the  beautiful  snow  I 

How  the  flakes  gather  and  laugh  as  they  go  I 
Whirling  about  in  their  maddening  fun 
They  play  in  their  glee  with  every  one. 
Chasing, 

Laughing, 

Hurrying  by, 
It  lights  on  the  face  and  it  sparkles  the  eye; 
And  even  the  dogs,  with  a  bark  and  a  bound, 
Snap  at  the  crystals  that  eddy  around ; 
The  town  is  alive  and  its  heart  in  a  glow, 
To  welcome  the  coming  of  beautiful  snow ! 

3.  How  the  wild  crowd  goes  swaying  along, 
Hailing  each  other  with  humor  and  song  I 
How  the  gay  sledges,  like  meteors  flash  by, 
Bright  for  a  moment,  then  lost  to  the  eye —  . 

Ringing, 

Swinging, 

Dashing  they  go, 
Over  the  crust  of  the  beautiful  snow  I 
Snow  so  pure  when  it  falls  from  the  sky. 
To  be  trampled  in  mud  by  the  crowd  rushing  by ; 
To  be  trampled  and  tracked  by  the  thousands  of  feet 
Till  it  blends  with  the  filth  in  the  horrible  street. 


4.  Once  I  was  pure  as  the  snow — but  I  fell  1 
Fell,  like  the  snow-flakes,  from  heaven  to  hell ; 
Fell  to  be  trampled  as  filth  in  the  street ; 
Fell  to  be  scofled,  to  be  spit  on  and  beat; 
Pleading, 

Cursing,   ^ 

Dreading  to  die, 
Selling  my  soul  to  whoever  would  buy; 
Dealing  in  shame  for  a  morsel  of  bread, 
Hating  the  living  and  fearing  the  dead ; 
Merciful  God  I  have  I  fallen  so  low  ? 
And  yet  I  was  once  like  the  beautiful  snow. 

6.  Once  I  was  fair  as  the  beautiful  snow. 

With  an  eye  like  its  crystal,  a  heart  like  its  glow ; 
22 


338  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Once  I  was  loved  for  my  innocent  grace, 
Flattered  and  sought  for  the  charms  of  my  face  I 
Father, 

Mother, 

Sisters,  all, 
God  and  myself,  I  have  lost  by  my  fall ; 
And  the  veriest  wretch  that  goes  shivering  by. 
Will  make  a  wide  swoop  lest  I  wander  too  nigh ; 
For  all  that  is  on  or  about  me  I  know 
There  is  nothing  that's  pure  but  the  beautiful  snow. 

6.  How  strange  it  should  be  that  this  beautiful  snow 
Should  fall  on  a  sinner  with  nowhere  to  go  I 
How  strange  it  should  be  when  the  night  comes  again, 
^f  the  snow  and  the  ice  strike  my  desperate  brain; 
Fainting, 

Freezing, 

Dying  alone 
Too  wicked  for  prayer,  too  weak  for  my  moan 
To  be  heard  in  the  crash  of  the  crazy  town, 
G-one  mad  in  the  joy  of  the  snow  coming  down, 
'I'o  lie  and  to  die  in  my  terrible  woe, 
With  a  bed  and  a  shroud  of  the  beautiful  snow  I 


Maud  Muller. 

J.  G.  Whittier. 


Maud  Muller,  on  a  summer's  day. 
Raked  the  meadow  sweet  with  hay. 

Beneath  her  torn  hat  glowed  the  wealth 
Of  simple  beauty  and  rustic  health. 

Singing,  she  wrought,  and  her  merry  glee 
The  mock-bird  echoed  from  his  tree. 

But,  when  she  glanced  to  the  far-off  town, 
White  from  its  hill-slope  looking  down. 

The  sweet  song  died,  and  a  vague  unrest 
And  a  nameless  longing  filled  her  breast^ 


DKAMATIC  STFLE.  839 

A  wish,  that  she  hardly  dared  to  own. 
.For  something  better  than  she  had  known. 

The  Judge  rode  slowly  down  the  lane, 
Smoothing  his  horse's  chestnut  mane. 

He  drew  his  bridle  in  the  shade 

Of  the  apple-trees,  to  greet  the  maid. 

And  ask  a  draught  from  the  spring  that  flowed 
Through  the  meadow  across  the  road. 

She  stooped  where  the  cool  spring  bubbled  up, 
And  filled  for  him  her  small  tin  cup, 

And  blushed  as  she  gave  it,  looking  down 
On  her  feet  so  bare,  and  her  tattered  gown. 

"  Thanks !  "  said  the  Judge,  "  a  sweeter  draught 
From  a  fairer  hand  was  never  quaffed." 

He  spoke  of  the  grass  and  flowers  and  trees, 
Of  the  singing  birds  and  the  humming  bees : 

Then  talked  of  the  haying,  and  wondered  whether 
The  cloud  in  the  west  would  bring  foul  weather. 

And  Maud  forgot  her  briar-torn  gown. 
And  her  graceful  ankles  bare  and  brown ; 

And  listened,  while  a  pleased  surprise 
Looked  from  her  long-lashed  hazel  eyes. 

At  last,  like  one  who  for  delay 
Seeks  a  vain  excuse,  he  rode  away. 

Maud  Muller  looked  and  sighed ;  "  Ah,  me  I 
That  I  the  Judge's  bride  might  be  I 

"  He  would  dress  me  up  in  silks  so  fine, 
And  praise  and  toast  me  at  his  wine. 

"My  father  should  wear  a  broadcloth  coat; 
My  brother  should  sail  a  painted  boat. 

"I'd  dress  my  mother  so  grand  and  gay; 
And  the  baby  should  have  a  new  toy  each  day. 


340  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

"  And  I'd  feed  the  hungry  and  clothe  the  poor, 
And  all  should  bless  me  who  left  our  door." 

The  Judge  looked  back  as  he  climbed  the  hill, 
And  saw  Maud  Muller  standing  still. 

"  A  form  more  fair,  a  face  more  sweet, 
Ne'er  hath  it  been  my  lot  to  meet. 

"  And  her  modest  answer  and  graceful  air 
Show  her  wise  and  good  as  she  is  fair. 

"  Would  she  were  mine,  and  I  to-day, 
Like  her,  a  harvester  of  hay : 

"  No  doubtful  balance  of  rights  and  wrongs, 
Nor  weary  lawyers  with  endless  tongues, 

"  But  low  of  cattle  and  song  of  birds, 
And  health  and  quiet  and  loving  words." 

But  he  thought  of  his  sisters  proud  and  cold, 
And  his  mother  vain  of  her  rank  and  gold. 

So,  closing  his  heart,  the  Judge  rode  on. 
And  Maud  was  left  in  the  field  alone. 

But  the  lawyers  smiled  that  afternoon, 
"When  he  hummed  in  court  an  old  love-tune 

And  the  young  girl  mused  beside  the  well. 
Till  the  rain  on  the  unraked  clover  fell. 

He  wedded  a  wife  of  richest  dower, 
Who  lived  for  fashion,  as  he  for  power. 

Tet  oft,  in  his  marble  hearth's  bright  glow, 
He  watched  a  picture  come  and  go ; 

And  swf.et  Maud  Muller's  hazel  eyes 
Looked  out  m  their  innocent  surprise. 

Oft,  when  the  wine  in  his  glass  was  red, 
He  longed  for  the  wayside  well  instead ; 

And  closed  his  eyes  on  his  garnished  rooms, 
To  dream  of  meadows  and  clover-blooms. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  341 

And  tlie  proud  man  sighed,  with  a  secret  pain ; 
"  Ah,  that  I  were  free  again  1 

**  Free  as  when  I  rode  that  day, 

Where  the  barefoot  maiden  raked  her  hay." 

She  wedded  a  man  unlearned  and  poor, 
And  many  children  played  round  her  door. 

And  oft,  when  the  summer  sun  shone  hot 
On  the  new-mown  hay  in  the  meadow  lot, 

And  she  heard  the  little  spring  brook  fall 
Over  the  roadside,  through  the  wall, 

In  the  shade  of  the  apple-tree  again 
She  saw  a  rider  draw  his  rein. 

And,  gazing  down  with  timid  grace, 
She  felt  his  pleased  eyes  read  her  face, 

Sometimes  her  narrow  kitchen  wails 
Stretched  away  into  stately  halls ; 

The  weary  wheel  to  a  spinnet  turned, 
The  tallow  candle  an  astral  burned. 

And  for  him  who  sat  by  the  chimney  lug, 
Dozing  and  grumbling  o'er  pipe  and  mug, 

A  manly  form  at  her  side  she  saw, 
And  joy  was  duty  and  love  was  law. 

Then  she  took  up  her  burden  of  life  again. 
Saying  only,  "It  might  have  been." 

Alas  for  maiden,  alas  for  Judge, 

For  rich  repiner  and  household  drudge  I 

God  pity  them  both  I  and  pity  us  all, 
"Who  vainly  the  dreams  of  youth  recalL 

For  of  all  sad  words  of  tongue  or  pen, 

The  saddest  are  these  :  "  It  might  have  been  I  *' 


842  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

Ah,  well  I  for  us  all  some  sweet  hope  lies 
Deeply  buried  from  human  eyes ; 

And  in  the  hereafter  angels  may 
Roll  the  stone  from  its  grave  away! 


Creeds  of  the  Bells. 

George  W.  Bungay. 

1.  How  sweet  the  chime  of  Sabbath  bells  I 
Each  one  its  creed  in  music  tells, 

In  tones  that  float  upon  the  air, 
As  soft  as  song,  and  pure  as  prayer ; 
And  I  will  put  in  simple  rhyme 
The  language  of  the  golden  cliirae. 
My  happy  heart  with  rapture  swells 
Responsive  to  the  bells — sweet  bells. 

2.  "In  deeds  of  love  excel — excel," 
Chimed  out  from  ivied  towers  a  bell ; 

**  This  is  the  church  not  built  on  sands, 
Emblem  of  one  not  built  with  hands ; 
Its  forms  and  sacred  rites  revere  ; 
Come  worship  here — come  worship  hero; 
Its  rituals  and  faith  excel — excel," 
Chimed  out  the  Episcopalian  bell. 

3.  "  0,  heed  the  ancient  landmarks  well," 
In  solemn  tones  exclaimed  a  bell ; 

*'  No  progress  made  by  mortal  man 
Can  change  the  just,  eternal  plan. 
With  God  there  can  be  nothing  new; 
Ignore  the  false,  embrace  the  true 
"While  all  is  well — is  well — is  well," 
Pealed  out  the  good  old  Dutch  Church  bell. 

4.  "  0  swell,  ye  purifying  waters,  swell," 
In  mellow  tones  rang  out  a  bell ; 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  843 

"  Though  faith  alone  in  Christ  can  save, 
Man  must  be  plunged  beneath  the  wave, 
To  show  the  world  unfaltering  faith 
In  what  the  sacred  Scripture  saith. 
0  swell,  ye  rising  waters,  swell," 
Pealed  out  the  clear-toned  Baptist  bell. 

,  "  Not  faith  alone,  but  works  as  well, 
Must  test  the  soul,"  said  a  soft  bell  ; 
"  Come  here,  and  cast  aside  your  load, 
And  work  your  way  along  the  road, 
"With  faith  in  God,  and  faith  in  man, 
And  hope  in  Christ,  where  hope  began : 
Do  well — do  well — do  well — do  well," 
Pealed  forth  the  Unitarian  bell. 

,  "  Farewell  I  farewell  1  base  world,  farewell," 
In  gloomy  tones  exclaimed  a  bell ; 
"  Life  is  a  boon  to  mortals  given. 
To  fit  the  soul  for  bliss  in  heaven. 
Do  not  invoke  the  avenging  rod ; 
Come  here,  and  learn  the  way  to  God. 
Say  to  the  world  farewell !  farewell  I  " 
Pealed  out  the  Presbyterian  bell. 

.  "  In  after  life  there  is  no  hell !  " 
In  raptures  rang  a  cheerful  bell ; 
"  Look  up  to  heaven  this  holy  day. 
Where  angels  wait  to  lead  the  way ; 
There  are  no  fires,  no  fiends,  to  blight 
The  future  life ;  be  just,  do  right. 
No  hell!  no  hell  I  no  hell  1  no  hell  1" 
Rang  out  the  Universalist  bell. 

,  "To  all  the  truth  we  tell— we  tell," 
Shouted  in  ecstasies  a  bell ; 
*'  Come  all  ye  weary  wanderers,  see  I 
Our  Lord  has  made  salvation  free. 
Repent!  believe!  have  faith!  and  then 
Be  saved,  and  praise  the  Lord.     Amen. 
Salvation's  free  we  tell — we  tell," 
Shouted  the  Methodistic  bell. 


844  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 


The  Irishwoman's  Letter. 

1.  And  sure,  I  was  tould  to  come  in  til  yer  honor, 

To  see  would  ye  write  a  few  lines  to  me  Pat ; 
He's  gone  for  a  soger  is  Misther  O'Conner, 

Wid  a  sh tripe  on  his  arm,  and  a  band  on  his  hat 

2.  And  what  'ill  ye  tell  him?  shure  it  must  be  aisy 

For  the  likes  of  yer  honor  to  spake  with  the  pen; 
Tell  him  I'm  well,  and  raavoumeen  Daisy 
(The  baby,  yer  honor)  is  better  again. 

3.  For  when  he  wint  off  so  sick  was  the  crayther, 

She  niver  hilt  up  her  blue  eyes  till  his  face ; 
And  when  I'd  be  cryin'  he'd  look  at  me  wild  like, 
And  ax  "  would  I  wish  for  the  counthry's  disgrace," 

4.  So  he  left  her  in  danger,  and  me  sorely  gravin', 

And  followed  the  flag  wid  an  Irishman's  joy; 
And  it's  often  I  drame  of  the  big  drums  a  batin', 
And  a  bullet  gone  straight  to  the  heart  of  my  boy. 

6.  Tell  him  to  sind  us  a  bit  of  his  money, 

For  the  rint  and  the  docther's  bill,  due  in  a  wake ; 
An',  shure  there's  a  tear  on  yer  eyelashes,  honey, 
I'  faith  I've  no  right  with  such  fradom  to  spake. 

6.  I'm  over  much  thrifling — I'll  not  give  ye  trouble ; 

I'll  find  some  one  willin' — 0  what  can  it  be  ? 

What's  that  in  the  newspaper  folded  up  double  ? 

Yer  honor,  don't  hide  it,  but  rade  it  to  me. 

7.  Deadl  Patrick  O'Conner?     0  God,  its  some  itherl 

Shot  dead  I  shure  'tis  a  wake  scarce  gone  by. 
An'  the  kiss  on  the  chake  of  his  sorrowin'  mother 
It  hasn't  had  time  yet,  yer  honor,  to  dhry. 

8.  Dead  I  dead !  0  God,  am  I  crazy  ? 

Shure  it's  brakin'  my  heart  ye  are  telling  me  so ; 
An'  what  in  the  world  will  I  do  with  poor  Daisy  ? 

0  what  can  I  do  ?  where  can  I  go  ? 

S>.  The  room  is  so  dark — I'm  not  seein'  yer  honor, 

1  think  I'll  go  home.    And  a  sob  hard  and  dry 
Kose  up  from  the  bosom  of  Mary  O'Conner, 

But  never  a  tear-drop  welled  up  to  her  eye. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  845 

On  the  Shores  op  Tennessee. 

Ethel  L,  Beers. 

1.  *  Move  my  arm-chair,  faithful  Pompey, 

In  the  sunshine,  bright  and  strong, 
For  this  world  is  fading,  Pompey, 

Massa  wont  be  with  you  long ; 
And  I  fain  would  hear  the  south  wind 

Bring  once  more  the  sound  to  me, 
Of  the  wavelets  softly  breaking 

On  the  shores  of  Tennessee. 

2.  "  Mournful  though  the  ripples  murmur 

As  they  still  the  story  tell, 
How  no  vessels  float  the  banner 

That  I've  loved  so  long  and  well. 
I  shall  hsten  to  their  music, 

Dreaming  that  again  I  see 
Stars  and  Stripes  on  sloop  and  shallop 

Saihng  up  the  Tennessee. 

3.  "  And,  Pompey,  w^hile  old  Massa' s  waiting 

For  Death's  last  dispatch  to  come. 
If  that  exiled  starry  banner 

Should  come  proudly  sailing  home, 
You  shall  greet  it,  slave  no-  longer — 

Yoice  and  hand  shall  both  be  free 
That  shout  and  point  to  Union  colors 

On  the  ;v^ves  of  Tennessee." 

4.  "  Massa's  berry  kind  to  Pompey ; 

But  ole  darkey's  happy  here, 
Where  he's  tended  corn  and  cotton 

For  deae  many  a  long  gone  year.  • 
Over  yonder  Missis'  sleeping — 

No  one  tends  her  grave  like  me. 
Mebbe  she  would  miss  the  flowers 

She  used  to  love  in  Tennessee. 

5.  "  Pears  like  she  was  watching  Massa- - 

If  Pompey  should  beside  him  stay, 
Mebbe  she'd  remember  better 
How  for  him  she  used  to  pray; 


346  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Telling  him  that  way  up  yonder 
White  as  snow  his  soul  would  be, 

If  he  served  the  Lord  of  heaven 
"While  he  lived  in  Tennessee/' 

6.  Silently  the  tears  were  rolling 

Down  the  poor  old  dusky  face, 
As  he  stepped  behind  his  master, 

In  his  long  accustomed  place. 
Then  a  silence  fell  around  them 

As  they  gazed  on  rock  and  tree 
Pictured  in  the  placid  waters 

Of  the  rolling  Tennessee. 

7.  Master,  dreaming  of  the  battle 

"Where  he  fought  by  Marion's  side, 
"When  he  bid  the  haughty  Tarlton 

Stoop  his  lordly  crest  of  pride. 
Man,  remembering  how  yon  sleeper 

Once  he  held  upon  his  knee. 
Ere  she  loved  the  gallant  soldier, 

Ralph  Yervair,  of  Tennessee. 

8.  Still  the  south  wind  fondly  lingers 

'Mid  the  veteran's  silver  hair ; 
Still  the  bondman  close  beside  him 

Stands  behind  the  old  arm-chair. 
"With  his  dark-hued  hand  uplifted, 

Shading  eyes,  he  bends  to  see 
"Where  the  woodland  boldly  jutting 

Turns  aside  the  Tennessee. 

9.  Thus  he  watches  cloud-born  shadowa 

Glide  from  tree  to  mountain-crest, 
Softly  creeping,  ay  and  ever  . 

To  the  river's  yielding  breast. 
Ha  1  above  the  foliage  yonder 

Something  flutters  wild  and  free  f 
**  Massa  1  massa  I  halleluiah  I 

The  flag's  come  back  to  Tennessee  I  ^ 

10    "  Pompey,  hold  me  on  your  shoulder, 
Help  me  stand  on  foot  once  more, 
That  I  may  salute  the  colors 
As  they  pass  my  cabin  door. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  347 

Here's  the  paper  signed  that  frees  you, 

Give  a  freeman's  shout  with  me — 
God  and  Union  I '  be  our  watchword 
Evermore  in  Tennessee." 

11.  Then  the  trembUng  voice  grew  fainter, 

And  the  Umbs  refused  to  stand ; 
One  prayer  to  Jesus — and  the  soldier 

GUded  to  the  better  land. 
When  the  flag  went  down  the  river 

Man  and  master  both  were  free, 
"While  the  ring-dove's  note  was  mingled 

With  the  rippling  Tennessee. 


The  Vagabonds. 

Trowbridge. 
1    We  are  two  travelers,  Roger  and  I. 

Roger's  my  dog.     Come  here,  you  scamp  1 
Jump  for  the  gentlemen — mind  your  eye  1 
Over  the  table — look  out  for  the  lamp  I 
The  rogue  is  growing  a  little  old ; 

Five  years  we've  tramped  through  wind  and  weather 
And  slept  out-doors  when  nights  were  cold, 
And  ate  and  drank — and  starved — together. 

2.  We've  learned  what  comfort  is,  X  tell  you  I 

A  bed  on  the  floor,  a  bit  of  rosin, 
A  fire  to  thaw  our  thumbs,  (poor  fellow  1 

The  paw  he  holds  up  there's  been  frozen,) 
Plenty  of  catgut  for  my  fiddle, 

(This  out-door  business  is  bad  for  strings,) 
Then  a  few  nice  buckwheats  hot  from  the  griddle, 

And  Roger  and  I  set  up  for  kings  I 

8.  No,  thank  ye,  sir — I  never  drink; 

Roger  and  I  are  exceedingly  moral — 
Aren't  we,  Roger  ?     See  him  wink  1 

Well,  something  hot,  then — we  wont  quarreL 
He's  thirsty,  too — see  him  nod  his  head  I 

What  a  pity,  sir,  that  dogs  can't  talk  I 
tie  understands  every  word  that's  said — 

And  he  knows  good  milk  from  water-and-chalk. 


348  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

4.  Tho  truth  is,  sir,  now  I  reflect, 

I've  been  so  sadlj  given  to  grog, 
I  wonder  I've  not  lost  the  respect 

(Here's  to  you,  sir  1)  even  of  my  dog. 
But  he  sticks  by,  through  thick  and  thin ; 

And  this  old  coat,  with  its  empty  pockets, 
And  rags  that  smell  of  tobacco  and  gin. 

He'll  follow  wliile  he  has  eyes  in  his  sockets. 

6.  There  isn't  another  creature  living 

"Would  do  it,  and  prove,  through  every  disaster. 
So  fond,  so  faithful,  and  so  forgiving. 

To  such  a  miserable,  thankless  master  1 
No,  sir  I  see  him  wag  his  tail  and  grin  I 

By  George  1  it  makes  my  old  eyes  water  1 
That  is,  there's  something  in  this  gin 

That  chokes  a  fellow.     But  no  matter  I 

6.  "We'll  have  some  music  if  you're  willing. 

And  Roger  (hem  I  what  a  plague  a  cough  is,  sir!) 
Shall  march  a  little.     Start,  you  villain ! 

Stand  straight  I     'Bout  face  I     Salute  your  officer  I 
Put  up  that  paw  1     Dress  1     Take  your  rifle  I 

(Some  dogs  have  arms,  you  see !)     Now  hold  your 
Cap  while  the  gentlemen  give  a  trifle 

To  aid  a  poor  old  patriot  soldier  1 

*l.  March  I     Halt !     Now  show  how  the  rebel  shakes 

"When  he  stands  up  to  hear  his  sentence. 
Now  tell  us  how  many  drams  it  takes 

To  honor  a  jolly  new  acquaintance. 
Five  yelps — that's  five;  he's  mighty  knowing! 

The  night's  before  us,  fill  the  glasses  1 
Quick,  sir  1     I'm  ill — my  brain  is  gomg  I 

Some  brandy — thank  you — there — it  passes  I 

8.   "Why  not  reform  ?    That's  easily  said ; 

But  I've  gone  through  such  wretched  treatment, 
Sometimes  forgetting  the  taste  of  bread. 

And  scarce  remembering  what  meat  meant, 
That  my  poor  stomach's  past  reform ; 

And  there  are  times  when,  mad  with  thinkmg, 
I'd  sell  out  heaven  for  something  warm 

To  prop  a  horrible  inward  sinking. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  349 

9.  Is  there  a  way  to  forget  to  think  ? 

At  your  age,  sir,  home,  fortune,  friends, 
A  dear  girl's  love — but  I  took  to  drink ; — 

The  same  old  story ;  you  know  how  it  ends. 
If  you  could  have  seen  these  classic  features — 

Tou  needn't  laugh,  sir ;  they  were  not  then 
Such  a  burning  libel  on  God's  creatures : 

I  was  one  of  your  handsome  men  I 

10.  If  you  had  seen  her,  so  fair  and  young, 

Whose  head  was  happy  on  this  breast  I 
If  you  could  have  heard  the  songs  I  sung 

"When  the  wine  went  round,  you  wouldn't  have  guessed 
That  ever  I,  sir,  should  be  straying 

From  door  to  door,  with  a  fiddle  and  dog, 
Ragged  and  penniless,  and  playing 

To  you  to-night  for  a  glass  of  grog  1 

II    She's  married  since — a  parson's  wife: 

'Twas  better  for  her  that  we  should  part — 
Better  the  soberest,  prosiest  life 

Than  a  blasted  home  and  a  broken  heart. 
I  have  seen  her  ?     Once :  I  was  weak  and  spent 

On  a  dusty  road :  a  carriage  stopped : 
But  little  she  dreamed,  as  on  she  went, 

"Who  kissed  the  coin  that  her  fingers  dropped  I 

^12.  You've  set  me  talking,  sir;  I'm  sorry; 

It  makes  me  wild  to  think  of  the  change  I 
What  do  you  care  for  a  beggar's  story  ? 

Is  it  amusing  ?  you  find  it  strange  ? 
I  had  a  mothe"  so  proud  of  me ! 

*Twas  well  she  died  before —    Do  you  know 
If  the  happy  spirits  in  heaven  can  see 

The  ruin  and  wretchedness  here  below  ? 

14.  Another  glass,  and  strong,  to  deaden 

This  pain ;  then  Roger  and  I  will  start. 
I  wonder,  nas  he  such  a  lumpish,  leaden, 

Aching  thing,  in  place  of  a  heart  ? 
He  is  sad  sometimes,  and  would  weep,  if  he  could, 

No  doubt,  remembering  things  that  were— 
A  virtuous  kennel,  with  plenty  of  food, 

And  himself  a  sober,  respectable  cur. 


350  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

14.  I'm  better  now ;  that  glass  was  warming.— 

You  rascal  1  limber  your  lazy  feet  1 
We  must  be  fiddling  and  performing 

For  supper  and  bed,  or  starve  in  the  strroot  -  - 
Not  a  very  gay  life  to  lead,  you  think  ? 

But  soon  we  shall  go  where  lodgings  are  free, 
And  the  sleepers  need  neither  victuals  nor  drink  ;- 

The  sooner,  the  better  for  Roger  and  me  1 


On  Board  the  Cumberlajsd. 

O.  W.  BoTcet^^March  8, 1862. 

1.  **  Stand  to  your  guns,  men !  "  Morris  cried. 
Small  need  to  pass  the  word ; 
Our  men  at  quarters  ranged  themselves 
Before  the  drum  was  heard. 

*.  And  then  began  the  sailors'  jests : 
"  What  thing  is  that,  I  say  ?  " 
"A  long-shore  meeting-house  adrift 
Is  standing  down  the  bay  1  " 

3.  A  frown  came  over  Morris'  face ; 

The  strange,  dark  craft  he  knew. 
**  That  is  the  iron  Merrimac, 
Manned  by  a  rebel  crew. 

4.  "  So  shot  your  gung,  and  point  them  straight 

Before  this  day  goes  by, 
We'll  try  of  what  her  metal's  made." 
A  cheer  was  our  reply. 

6.  "  Remember,  boys,  this  flag  of  ours 
Has  seldom  left  its  place ; 
And  when  it  falls,  the  deck  it  strikes 
Is  covered  with  disgrace. 

6.  "I  ask  but  this :  or  sink  or  swim, 
Or  live  or  nobly  die, 
My  last  sight  upon  earth  may  be 
To  see  that  ensign  fly  1 " 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  851 

1,  Meanwhile  the  shapeless  iron  mass 
Came  moving  o'er  the  wave, 
As  gloomy  as  a  passing  hearse, 
As  silent  as  the  grave. 

8.  Her  ports  were  closed ;  from  stem  to  stem 

No  sign  of  life  appeared 
We  wondered,  questioned,  strained  our  eyes, 
Joked — every  thing  but  feared. 

9.  She  reached  our  range.     Our  broadside  rang, 

Our  heavy  pivots  roared ; 
And  shot  and  shell,  a  fire  of  hell, 
Against  her  sides  we  poured. 

10.  God's  mercy  I  from  her  sloping  roof 

The  iron  tempest  glanced, 
As  hail  bounds  from  a  cottage  thatch, 
And  round  her  leaped  and  danced' 

11.  Or  when  against  her  dusky  hull 

We  struck  a  fair,  full  blow. 
The  mighty,  solid  iron  globes 
Were  crumbled  up  like  snow. 

12.  On,  on,  with  fast  increasing  speed 

The  silent  monster  came. 
Though  all  our  starboard  battery 
Was  one  long  line  of  flame. 

13.  She  heeded  not;  no  gun  she  fired; 

Straight  on  our  bow  she  bore  ; 
Through  riving  plank  and  crashing  frame 
Her  furious  way  she  tore. 

14.  Alas !  our  beautiful,  keen  bow, 

That  in  the  fiercest  blast 
So  gently  folded  back  the  seas. 
They  hardly  felt  we  passed  I 

16.  Alas  I  alas  I  my  Cumberland,  * 

That  ne'er  knew  grief  before. 
To  be  so  gored,  to  feel  so  deep 
The  tusk  of  that  sea-boar  I 


352  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

16.  Once  more  she  backward  drew  a  space, 
Once  more  our  side  she  rent ; 
Then,  in  the  wantonness  of  hate, 
Her  broadside  through  us  sent. 

It.  The  dead  and  dying  round  us  lay, 
But  our  foeman  lay  abeam ; 
Her  open  port-holes  maddened  us ; 
"We  fired  with  shout  and  scream. 

18.  We  felt  our  vessel  settling  fast, 

"We  knew  our  time  was  brief. 
*'  Ho  I  man  the  pumps  I "    But  those  who  worked, 
And  fought  not,  wept  with  grief. 

19.  "  0  keep  us  but  an  hour  afloat  I 

0,  give  us  only  time 
To  mete  unto  yon  rebel  crew 
The  measure  of  their  crime  I " 

20.  From  captain  down  to  powder-boy 

No  hand  was  idle  then ; 
Two  soldiers,  but  by  chance  aboard, 
Fought  on  like  sailor  men. 

21.  And  when  a  gun's  crew  lost  a  hand, 

Some  bold  marine  stepped  out, 
And  jerked  his  braided  jacket  oJBT, 
And  hauled  the  gun  about. 

22.  Our  forward  magazine  was  drowned ; 

And  up  from  the  sick  bay 
Crawled  the  wounded,  red  with  blood, 
And  round  us  gasping  lay. 

23.  Yes,  cheering,  calling  us  by  name. 

Struggling  with  failing  breath 
To  keep  their  shipmates  at  their  post 
Where  glory  strove  with  death. 

^  24.  With  decks  afloat,  and  powder  gon  , 

The  last  broadside  we  gave 
From  the  gun's  heated  iron  lips 
Burst  out  beneath  the  wave. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  85? 

25.  So  sponges,  rammers,  and  handspikes — 

As  men-of-war's-men  should — 
We  placed  within  their  proper  racks, 
And  at  our  ouarters  stood. 

26.  "Up  to  the  spar-deck  1  save  yourselves  I*' 

Cried  Selfridge.     '*  Up,  my  men  I 
God  grant  that  some  of  us  may  live 
To  fight  yon  ship  again  1 " 

2*7.  We  turned— we  did  not  like  to  go; 
Yet  staying  seemed  but  vain, 
Knee-deep  in  water ;  so  we  left : 
Some  swore,  some  groaned  with  pain. 

28.  We  reached  the  deck.     There  Randall  stooa 

"  Another  turn,  .men — so  I  " 

Calmly  he  aimed  his  pivot  gun : 

*'  Now,  Tenny,  let  her  go  I  " 

29.  It  did  our  sore  hearts  good  to  hear 

The  song  our  pivot  sang. 
As,  rushing  on  from  wave  to  wave, 
The  whirling  bomb-^iell  sprang. 

30.  Brave  Randall  leaped  upon  the  gun. 

And  waved  his  cap  in  sport ; 
"  Well  done  1  well  aimed  1  I  saw  that  shell 
Go  through  an  open  port." 

31.  It  was  our  last,  our  deadliest  shot: 

The  deck  was  overflown ; 
The  poor  ship  staggered,  lurched  to  port, 
And  gave  a  living  groan. 

32.  Down,  down,  as  headlong  through  the  waves 

Our  gallant  vessel  rushed, 
A  thousand  gurgling  watery  sounds 
Around  my  senses  gushed. 

33.  Then  I  remember  little  more. 

One  look  to  heaven  I  gave, 
Where,  like  an  angel's  wing,  I  saw 
Our  spotless  ensign  wave. 
23 


854  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

34   I  tried  to  cheer.    I  cannot  say 
Whether  I  swam  or  sank ; 
A  blue  mist  closed  around  my  eyes, 
And  every  thing  was  blank. 

36.  When  I  awoke,  a  soldier  lad, 
All  dripping  from  the  sea, 
With  two  great  tears  upon  his  cheeks, 
Was  bending  over  me. 

36.  I  tried  to  speak.     He  understood 
The  wish  I  could  not  speak. 
He  turned  me.     There,  thank  God  I  the  flag 
Still  fluttered  at  the  peak  1 

3*7    And  there,  while  thread  shall  hang  to  thread, 
0  let  that  ensign  fly  I 
The  noblest  constellation  set 
Against  our  northern  sky. 

38.  A  sign  that  we  who  live  may  claim 
The  peerage  of  the  brave ; 
A  monument,  that  needs  no  scroll, 
Eor  those  beneath  the  wave. 


The    Bells. 

Edgar  A.  Foe. 


1.  Hear  the  sledges  with  the  bells — 
Silver  bells — 
What  a  world  of  merriment  their  melody  foretells  \ 
How  they  tinkle,  tinkle,  tinkle, 

In  the  icy  air  of  night  1 
While  the  stars  that  oversprinkle 
All  the  heavens,  seem  to  twinkle 

With  a  crystalline  dehght ; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme. 
To  the  tintinnabulation  that  so  musically  swells 
From  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells, 
Bells,  bells,  bells— 
From  the  jingling  and  the  tinkling  of  the  bells 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  855 

2.  Hear  the  mellow  wedding-bells, 

Golden  bells  1 
TThat  a  world  of  happiness  their  harmcBy  foretells  I 
Through  the  balmy  air  of  night 
How  they  ring  out  their  delight  I 
From  the  molten-golden  notes, 

And  all  in  tune, 
What  a  liquid  ditty  floats 
To  the  turtle-dove  that  listens,  while  she  gloats 
On  the  moon  1 
0,  from  out  the  sounding  cells, 
What  a  gush  of  euphony  voluminously  wells  I 
How  it  swells  I 
How  it  dwells 
On  the  Future  I  how  it  tells 
Of  the  rapture  that  impels 
To  the  swinging  and  the  ringing 
Of  the  bells,  bells,  bells- 
Bells,  bells,  bells — 
To  the  rhyming  and  the  chiming  of  the  bells  1 

3.  Hear  the  loud  alarum  bells — 

Brazen  bells ! 
What  a  tale  of  terror,  now,  their  turbulency  tells ! 
In  the  startled  ear  of  night 
How  they  scream  out  their  affright  I 
Too  much  horrified  to  speak. 
They  can  only  shriek,  shriek, 
Out  of  tune, 
a  clamorous  appealing  to  the  mercy  of  the  fire, 
a  mad  expostulation  with  the  deaf  and  frantic  fire 
Leaping  higher,  higher,  higher, 
With  a  desperate  desire. 
And  a  resolute  endeavor, 
Now — now  to  sit  or  never. 
By  the  side  of  the  pale-faced  moon. 
O  the  bells,  bells,  bells ! 
What  a  tale  their  terror  tells 
Of  despair  1 
How  they  clang,  and  clash,  and  roar  I 
What  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  palpitating  air  I 


356  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Yet  the  ear,  it  fully  knows, 
By  the  twanging 
And  the  clanging, 
How  the  danger  ebbs  and  flows ; 
Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells, 
In  the  jangling 
And  the  wrangling. 
How  the  danger  sinks  and  swells, 
By  the  sinking  or  the  swelling  in  the  anger  of  the  bells, 
Of  the  beUs— 
Bells,  bells,  bells — 
In  the  clamor  and  the  clangor  of  the  bells  I 

4.  Hear  the  tolling  of  the  bells — 
Iron  bells  1 
What  a  world  of  solemn  thought  their  monody  compels  I 
In  the  silence  of  the  night, 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone ! 
For  every  sound  that  floats 
From  the  rust  within  their  throats 

Is  a  groan. 
And  the  people — ah,  the  people — 
They  that  dwell  up  in  the  steeple, 

All  alone. 
And  who  tolling,  tolling,  tolling, 

In  that  muffled  monotone. 
Feel  a  glory  in  so  rolling 

On  the  human  heart  a  stone — 
They  are  neither  man  nor  woman — 
They  are  neither  brute  nor  human — 

They  are  Ghouls : 
And  their  king  it  is  who  tolls ; 
And  he  rolls,  rolls,  rolls,  rolls, 

A  paean  from  the  bells  I 
And  his  merry  bosom  swells 

With  the  pccan  of  the  bells ! 
And  he  dances  and  he  j^ells ; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time. 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  rhyme. 
To  the  tolling  of  the  bells. 
Bells,  bells,  bells, 
To  the  moaning  and  the  groaning  of  the  bells. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  857 

Charlie  Macheee. 

William  J.  Hojppin. 

Come  over,  come  over  the  river  to  me, 
If  ye  are  my  laddie,  bold  Charlie  Machreel 

Here's  Mary  M'Pherson  and  Susy  O'Linn, 

Who  say  ye're  faint-hearted,  and  dare  not  plunge  in. 

But  the  dark  rolling  river,  though  deep  as  the  sea, 
I  know  cannot  scare  you,  nor  keep  you  from  me ; 

For  stout  is  your  back  and  strong  is  your  arm, 
And  the  heart  in  your  bosom  is  faithful  and  warm.  . 

Come  over,  come  over  the  river  to  me, 
If  ye  are  my  laddie,  bold  Charlie  Machree. 

I  see  him,  I  see  him.     He's  plunged  in  the  tide ; 
His  strong  arms  are  dashing  the  big  waves  aside. 

0 !  the  dark  rolling  water  shoots  swift  as  the  sea, 
But  blithe  is  the  glance  of  his  bonny  blue  e'e; 

His  cheeks  are  like  roses,  twa  buds  on  a  bough ; 
Who  says  ye're  faint-hearted,  my  brave  laddie,  now  ? 

Ho,  ho,  foaming  river,  ye  may  roar  as  ye  go, 
But  ye  canna  bear  Charlie  to  the  dark  loch  below  I 

Come  over,  come  over  the  river  to  me, 

My  true-hearted  laddie,  my  Charlie  Machree  I 

He's  sinking,  he's  sfnking — 0,  what  shall  I  do  I 
Strike  out,  Charlie,  boldly,  ten  strokes,  and  ye're  thro'. 

He's  sinking,  0  heaven!     Ne'er  fear,  man,  ne'er  fear; 
I've  a  kiss  for  ye,  Charlie,  as  soon  as  ye're  here  I 

He  rises,  I  see  him — five  strokes,  Charlie,  mair, — 
He's  shaking  the  wet  from  his  bonny  brown  hair; 

He  conquers  the  current,  he  gains  on  the  sea, — 
Ho,  where  is  the  swimmer  like  Charlie  Machreel 

Come  over  the  river,  but  once  come  to  me. 
And  I'll  love  ye  forever,  dear  Charlie  Machree. 

He's  sinking,  he's  gone — 0  God,  it  is  I, 

It  is  I,  who  have  killed  him — help,  help  1 — he  must  die. 


858  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Help,  helpl — ah,  he  rises, — strike  out  and  ye're  free. 
Ho,  bravely  done,  Charlie  ;  once  more  now,  for  me  I 

Now  cling  to  the  rock,  now  give  me  your  hand — 
Ye're  safe,  dearest  Charhe,  ye're  safe  on  the  landl 

Come  rest  on  my  bosom,  if  there  ye  can  sleep ; 
I  canna  speak  to  ye ;  I  only  can  weep. 

Ye've  crossed  the  wild  river,  ye've  risked  all  for  me 
And  I'll  part  frae  ye  never,  dear  Charlie  Machree  I 


The  Rising,  1776. 

T.  Buchanan  Bead. 

1.  Out  of  the  North  the  wild  news  came, 
Far  flashing  on  its  wings  of  flame. 
Swift  as  the  boreal  light  which  flies 

At  midnight  through  the  startled  skies. 

2.  And  there  was  tumult  in  the  air. 

The  fife's  shrill  note,  the  drum's  loud  beak. 
And  through  the  wide  land  every-where 

The  answering  tread  of, hurrying  feet; 
"While  the  first  oath  of  Freedom's  gun 
Came  on  the  blast  from  Lexington ; 
And  Concord  roused,  no  longer  tame, 
Forgot  her  old  baptismal  name. 
Made  bare  her  patriot  arm  of  power, 
And  swelled  the  discord  of  the  hour. 

3.  Within  its  shade  of  elm  and  oak 

The  church  of  Berkley  Manor  stood ; 
There  Sunday  found  the  rural  folk, 
And  some  esteemed  of  gentle  blood. 

4.  How  sweet  the  hour  of  Sabbath  talk, 

The  vale  with  peace  and  sunshine  full, 
Where  all  the  happy  people  walk, 

Decked  in  their  homespun  flax  and  wool  I 
Where  youths'  gay  hats  with  blossoms  bloom  • 

And  every  maid,  with  simple  art, 

Wears  on  her  breast,  like  her  own  lioart, 
A  bud  whose  depths  are  all  perfume; 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  359 

While  every  garment's  gentle  stir 
Is  breathing  rose  and  lavender. 

5.  The  pastor  came  :  his  snowy  locks 

Hallowed  his  brow  of  thought  and  care ; 
And  calmly,  as  shepherds  lead  their  flocks, 
He  led  into  the  house  of  prayer. 

6.  The  pastor  rose ;  the  prayer  was  strong ; 
The  psalm  was  warrior  David's  song ; 
The  text,  a  few  short  words  of  might — 

**  The  Lord  of  hosts  shall  arm  the  right  I  " 
He  spoke  of  wrongs  too  long  endured, 
Of  sacred  rights  to  be  secured ; 
Then  from  his  patriot  tongue  of  flame 
The  startling  words  for  Freedom  came. 
The  stirring  sentences  be  spake 
Compelled  the  heart  to  glow  or  quake, 
And,  rising  on  his  theme's  broad  wing, 

And  grasping  in  his  nervous  hand 

The  imaginary  battle-brand, 
In  face  of  death  he  dared  to  fling 
Defiance  to  a  tyrant  king. 

T.  Even  as  he  spoke,  his  frame,  renewed 
In  eloquence  of  attitude, 
Rose,  as  it  seemed,  a  shoulder  higher ; 
Then  swept  his  kindling  glance  of  fire 
Prom  startled  pew  to  breathless  choir ; 
"When  suddenly  his  mantle  wide 
His  hands  impatient  flung  aside. 
And,  lo,  he  met  their  wondering  eyes 
Complete  in  all  a  warrior's  guise. 

A  moment  there  was  awful  pause — 
When  Berkley  cried,  "  Cease,  traitor  I  cease  I 
God's  temple  is  the  house  of  peace  1 " 
The  other  shouted,  "Nay,  not  so; 

When  God  is  with  our  righteous  causo, 
His  hohest  places  then  are  ours. 
His  temples  are  our  forts  and  towers 
That  frown  upon  the  tyrant  foe  j 


360  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION 

In  this,  the  dawn  of  Freedom's  day, 
There  is  a  time  to  fisrht  and  pray  I  " 

8.  And  now  before  the  open  door — 

The  warrior  priest  had  ordered  so— 
The  enlisting  trumpet's  sudden  roar 
Eang  through  the  chapel,  o'er  and  o'er, 

Its  long  reverberating  blow, 
So  loud  and  clear,  it  seemed  the  ear 
Of  dusty  death  must  wake  and  hear. 
And  there  the  startling  drum  and  fife 
Fired  the  living  with  fiercer  life ; 
While  overhead,  with  wild  increase, 
Forgetting  its  ancient  toll  of  peace, 

The  great  bell  swung  as  ne '  er  before. 
It  seemed  as  it  would  never  cease ; 
And  every  word  its  ardor  flung 
From  off"  its  jubilant  iron  tongue 

Was,  "  War  I  war  I  war  I  " 

9.  ''Who  dares  " — this  was  the  patriot's  cryj 

As  striding  from  the  desk  he  came — 
*'  Come  out  with  me,  in  Freedom's  narae, 
For  her  to  live,  for  her  to  die  ?  " 
A  hundred  hands  flung  up  reply, 
A  hundred  voices  answered,  "II" 


The  Polish  Boy. 

Mrs.  An/n  8.  Stephens. 

1.  Whence  came  those  shrieks,  so  wild  and  shrill, 

That  like  an  arrow  cleave  the  air, 
Causing  the  blood  to  creep  and  thrill 

With  such  sharp  cadence  of  despair  ? 
Once  more  they  come  1  as  if  a  heart 

Were  cleft  in  twain  by  one  quick  olow, 
And  every  string  had  voice  apart 

To  utter  its  peculiar  woel 

2.  Whence  came  they  ?    From  yon  temple,  where 

An  altar  raised  for  private  prayer. 

Now  forms  the  warrior's  marble  bed, 

Wlio  Warsaw's  gallant  armies  led. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  861 

The  dim  funereal  tapers  threw 

A  holy  luster  o'er  his  brow, 
And  burnish  witL  their  rays  of  light 

The  mass  of  curls  that  gather  bright 
Above  the  haughty  brow  and  eye 

Of  a  young  boy  that's  kneeling  by. 

3.  Wliat  hand  is  that  whose  icy  press 

Chngs  to  the  dead  with  death's  own  grasp, 
But  meets  no  answering  caress — 

No  thrilling  fingers  seek  its  clasp  ? 
It  is  the  hand  of  her  whose  cry 

Kang  wildly  late  upon  the  air, 
"When  the  dead  warrior  met  her  eye, 

Outstretched  upon  the  altar  there. 

4.  Now  with  white  lips  and  broken  moan 
She  sinks  beside  the  altar  stone ; 

But  hark  1  the  heavy  tramp  of  feet 

Is  heard  along  the  gloomy  street. 

Nearer  and  nearer  yet  they  come, 

With  clanking  arms  and  noiseless  drum. 

They  leave  the  pavement.     Flowers  that  spread 

Their  beauties  by  the  path  they  tread, 

Are  crushed  and  broken.     Crimson  hands 

Kend  brutally  their  blooming  bands. 

Now  whispered  curses,  low  and  deep, 

Around  the  holy  temple  creep. 

The  gate  is  burst.     A  ruffian  band 

Rush  in  and  savagely  demand, 

With  brutal  voice  and  oath  profane. 

The  startled  boy  for  exile's  chain. 

5.  The  mother  sprang  with  gesture  wild, 
And  to  her  bosom  snatched  the  child ; 
Then  with  pale  cheek  and  flashing  eye, 
Shouted  with  fearful  energy — 

*'  Back,  ruffians,  back !  nor  dare  to  tread 
Too  near  the  body  of  my  dead  I 
Nor  touch  the  living  boy — I  stand 
Between  him  and  your  lawless  band! 
No  traitor  he.     But  listen  !     I 
Have  cursed  your  master's  tyranny. 


862  SCIENCE  OF   ELOCUTION. 

I  cheered  my  lord  to  join  the  band 

Of  those  who  swore  to  free  our  land, 

Or  fighting  die ;  and  when  he  pressed 

Mo  for  the  last  time  to  his  breast, 

I  knew  that  soon  his  form  would  be 

Low  as  it  is,  or  Poland  free. 

He  went  and  grappled  with  the  foe, 

Laid  many  a  haughty  Russian  low; 

But  he  is  dead — the  good — the  brave — 

And  I,  his  wife,  am  worse — a  slave ! 

Take  me,  and  bind  tliese  arms,  these  hands, 

With  Russia's  heaviest  iron  bands, 

And  drag  me  to  Siberia's  wild 

To  perish,  if  'twill  save  my  child  1 " 

6.  "  Peace,  woman,  peace  I "  the  leader  cried, 
Tearing  the  pale  boy  from  her  side ; 
And  in  his  ruffian  grasp  he  bore 
»         His  victim  to  the  temple  door. 

t,  "One  moment?"  shrieked  the  mother,  "one 
Can  land  or  gold  redeem  my  son  ? 
If  so,  I  bend  my  Polish  knee. 
And,  Russia,  ask  a  boon  of  thee. 
Take  palaces,  take  lands,  take  all,. 
But  leave  him  free  from  Russian  thrall. 
Take  these,"  and  her  white  arms  and  hands 
She  stripped  of  rings  and  diamond  bands. 
And  tore  from  braids  of  long  black  hair 
The  gems  that  gleamed  like  star-light  there; 
Unclasped  the  brilliant  coronal 
And  carcanet  of  orient  pearl ; 
Her  cross  of  blazing  rubies  last 
Down  to  the  Russian's  feet  she  cast. 

8.  He  stooped  to  seize  the  glittering  store ; 
Upspringing  from  the  marble  floor, 
The  mother  with  a  cry  of  joy, 
Snatched  to  her  leaping  heart  the  boy  f 
But  no — the  Russian's  iron  grasp 
Again  undid  the  mother's  clasp. 
Forward  she  fell,  with  one  long  cry 
Of  more  than  mother's  agony. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  868 

9.  But  the  brave  child  is  roused  at  /eugth, 
And  breaking  from  the  Russian's  hold, 
He  stands,  a  giant  in  the  strength 
Of  his  young  spirit,  fierce  and  bold. 

10.  Proudly  he  towers ;  his  flashing  eye, 

So  blue  and  fiercely  bright, 
Seems  lighted  from  the  eternal  sky, 

So  brilliant  is  its  light. 
His  curling  lips  and  crimson  cheeks 
Foretell  the  thought  before  he  speaks. 
With  a  full  voice  of  proud  command 
He  turns  upon  the  wondering  band. 

11.  "  Ye  hold  me  not !  no,  no,  nor  can ; 
This  hour  has  made  the  boy  a  man. 
The  world  shall  witness  that  one  soul 
Fears  not  to  prove  itself  a  Pole. 

12.  "  I  knelt  beside  my  slaughtered  sire, 
Nor  felt  one  throb  of  vengeful  ire ; 

I  wept  upon  his  marble  brow — 

Yes,  wept — I  was  a  child ;  but  now 

My  noble  mother  on  her  knee, 

Has  done  the  work  of  years  for  me. 

Although  in  tliis  small  tenement 

My  soul  is  cramped — unbowed,  unbent, 

I've  still  within  me  ample  power 

To  free  myself  this  very  hour. 

This  dagger  in  my  heart  1  and  then, 

Where  is  your  boasted  power,  base  men  f  " 

He  drew  aside  his  broidered  vest. 

And  there,  hke  slumbering  serpent's  crest, 

The  jeweled  haft  of  a  poniard  bright, 

Glittered  a  moment  on  the  sight. 

"Hal  start  ye  back?     Fool!  coward  1  knave  I 

Think  ye  my  noble  father's  glave 

Could  drink  the  life  blood  of  a  slave  ? 

The  pearls  that  on  the  handle  flame 

Would  blush  to  rubies  in  their  shame. 

The  blade  would  quiver  in  thy  breast, 

Ashamed  of  such  ignoble  rest  I 

No ;  thus  I  rend  thy  tyrant's  chain, 

And  fling  him  back  a  boy's  disdain  I " 


864  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION". 

13.  A  moment,  and  the  funeral  light 

Flashed  on  the  jeweled  weapon  bright ; 
Another,  and  his  young  heart's  blood 
Leaped  to  the  floor  a  crimson  flood. 
Quick  to  his  mother's  side  he  spranp'. 
And  on  the  air  his  clear  voice  rang — . 
"  Up,  mother,  up  1     I'm  free  1     I'm  free  I 
The  choice  was  death  or  slavery ; 
Up  1  mother,  up  I  look  on  my  face, 
I  only  wait  for  thy  embrace. 
One  last,  last  word — a  blessing,  one. 
To  prove  thou  knowest  what  I  have  done ; 
No  look  1  no  word  I     Canst  thou  not  feel 
My  warm  blood  o'er  thy  heart  congeal  ? 
Speak,  mother,  speak — lift  up  thy  head. 
,    What,  silent  still  ?     Then  art  thou  dead  I 
Great  God,  I  thank  thee  1     Motlier,  I 
Rejoice  with  thee,  and  thus  to  die." 
Slowly  he  falls.     The  clustering  hair 
Rolls  back  and  leaves  that  forehead  bare. 
One  long,  deep  breath,  and  his  pale  head 
Lay  on  his  mother's  bosom,  dead. 


Count  Candespina's  Standaed. 

"The  King  of  Aragon  now  entered  Castile,  by  way  of  Soria  and  Osma,  with  a 
powerful  army;  and,  having  been  met  by  the  queen's  forces,  both  parties  encamped 
near  Sepulveda,  and  prepared  to  give  battle. 

"  This  engagement,  called,  from  the  field  where  it  took  place,  de  la  Espina^  is 
one  of  the  most  famous  of  that  age.  The  dastardly  Count  of  Lara  fled  at  the  first 
shock,  and  joined  the  queen  at  Bni'gos,  where  she  was  anxiously  awaiting  the  issue; 
but  the  brave  Count  of  Candespina  (Gomez  Gonzalez)  stood  his  ground  to  the  last, 
and  died  on  the  field  of  battle.  His  standard-bearer,  a  gentleman  of  the  house  of 
Olea,  after  having  his  horse  killed  under  him,  and  both  hands  cut  off  by  saber* 
Btiokes,  fell  beside  his  master,  still  clasping  the  standard  in  his  arms,  and  rej-eat- 
\!Mi  his  war-cry  of  '  Olea  I '  ^"—AnnaU  of  the,  Queens  ?/ Spain. 

1.  Scarce  were  the  splintered  lances  dropped, 
Scarce  were  the  swords  drawn  out, 
Ere  recreant  Lara,  sick  with  fear, 
Had  wheeled  his  steed  about; 


DRAMATIC  STYLE  S65 

2.  His  courser  reared,  and  plunged,  and  neighed, 

Loathing  the  fight  to  yield  ; 
But  the  coward  spurred  him  to  the  bone» 
And  drove  him  from  the  field. 

3    Gonzalez  in  his  stirrups  rose : 

"Turn,  turn,*  thou  traitor  knight  I 
Thou  bold  tongue  in  a  lady's  bower, 
Thou  dastard  in  a  fight  1 " 

4.  But  vainly  valiant  Gomez  cried 
Across  the  waning  fray: 
Pale  Lara  and  his  craven  band 
To  Burgos  scoured  away. 

.5.  "Now,  by  the  God  above  me,  sirs, 
Better  we  all  were  dead, 
Than  a  single  knight  among  ye  all 
Should  ride  where  Lara  led ! 

6.  "  Yet  ye  who  fear  to  follow  me, 
As  yon  traitor  turn  and  fly; 
For  I  lead  ye  not  to  win  a  field : 
I  lead  ye  forth  to  die. 

1.  "  Olea,  plant  my  standard  here — 
Here  on  this  little  mound ; 
Here  raise  the  war-cry  of  thy  house, 
Make  this  our  rallying  ground. 

8.  "  Forget  not,  as  thou  hop'st  for  grace, 

The  last  care  I  shall  have 
Will  be  to  hear  thy  battle-cry, 
And  see  that  standard  wave." 

9.  Down  on  the  ranks  of  Aragon 

The  bold  Gonzalez  drove, 

An(i  Olea  raised  his  battle-cry, 

And  waved  the  flag  above. 

10.  Slowly  Gonzalez'  little  band 

Gave  ground  before  the  foe, 
But  not  an  inch  of  the  field  v/as  won 
Without  a  deadlj^  blowj 


366  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

11.  And  not  an  inch  of  the  field  was  won 

That  did  not  draw  a  tear 
From  tlie  widowed  wives  of  Aragon, 
That  fatal  news  to  hear. 

12.  Backward  and  backward  Gomez  fought, 

And  high  o'er  the  clasliing  steel, 
Plainer  and  plainer  rose  the  cry, 
"  Olea  for  Castile  1 " 

13.  Backward  fought  Ooraez,  step  by  step, 

Till  the  cry  was  close  at  hand, 
Till  his  dauntless  standard  shadowed  him  • 
And  there  he  made  his  stand. 

14.  Mace,  sword,  and  ax  rang  on  his  mail, 

Yet  he  moved  not  where  he  stood, 
Though  each  gaping  joint  of  armor  ran 
A  stream  of  purple  blood. 

16.  As,  pierced  with  countless  wounds,  he  fell, 
The  standard  caught  his  eye. 
And  he  smiled,  like  an  infant  hushed  asleep, 
To  hear  the  battle-cry. 

16.  Now  one  by  one  the  wearied  knights 

Have  fallen,  or  basely  flown ; 
And  on  the  mound  where  his  post  was  fixed 
Olea  stood  alone. 

17.  "  Yield  up  thy  banner,  gallant  knight  I 

Thy  lord  lies  on  the  plain ; 

Thy  duty  has  been  nobly  done ; 

I  would  not  see  thee  slain." 

18.  "  Spare  pity.  King  of  Aragon ; 

I  would  not  hear  thee  lie: 
My  lord  is  looking  down  from  heaven 
To  see  his  standard  fly." 

19.  "  Yield,  madman,  yield  I  thy  horse  is  down, 

Thou  hast  nor  lance  nor  shield ; 
Fly  I— I  will  grant  thee  time."     "  This  flag 
Can  neither  fly  nor  yield  1 " 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  367 

20.  They  girt  the  standard  round  about, 

A  wall  of  flashing  steel ; 
But  still  they  heard  the  battle-cry, 
"Olea  for  Castile  I" 

21.  And  there,  against  all  Aragon, 

Full-armed  with  lance  and  brand, 
Olea  fought  until  the  sword 
Snapped  in  his  sturdy  hand. 

22.  Among  the  foe,  with  that  high  scorn 

"Which  laughs  at  earthly  fears, 
He  hurled  the  broken  hilt,  and  drew 
His  dagger  on  the  spears. 

23.  They  hewed  the  hauberk  from  his  breast, 

The  helmet  from  his  head ; 
They  hewed  the  hands  from  off  his  limbs 
From  every  vein  he  bled. 

24.  Clasping  the  standard  to  his  heart, 

He  raised  one  dying  peal. 
That  rang  as  if  a  trumpet  blew— 
"Olea  for  CastUe!" 


The  Baron's  Last  Banquet, 

A,  G.  Greene. 

1.  O^er  a  low  couch  the  setting  sun 

Had  thrown  its  latest  ray, 
"Where,  in  his  last  strong  agony, 

A  dying  warrior  lay — 
The  stem  old  Baron  Rudiger, 

Whose  frame  had  ne'er  been  bent 
By  wasting  pain,  till  time  and  toil 

Its  iron  strength  had  spent. 

2.  "  They  come  around  me  here,  and  say 

My  days  of  life  are  o'er — 
That  I  shall  mount  my  noble  steed 
And  lead  my  band  no  more  j 


SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTIOK. 

The/  come,  and  to  my  beard  they  dare 

To  tell  me  now,  that  I, 
Their  own  liege  lord  and  master  born— 

That  I— ha  I  ha  I — must  die  1 

3.  **  And  what  is  death  ?    I've  dared  him  oft 

Before  the  Paynim's  spear — 
Think  ye  he's  entered  at  my  gate, 

Has  come  to  seek  me  here  ? 
I've  met  him,  faced  him,  scorned  him, 

When  the  fight  was  raging  hot — 
I'll  try  his  might — I'll  brave  his  powor^ 

Defy,  and  fear  him  not  1 

4.  "  Ho !  sound  the  tocsin  from  the  tower, 

And  fire  the  culverini 
Bid  each  retainer  arm  with  speed, 

Call  every  vassal  in ! 
Up  with  my  banner  on  the  wall  I 

The  banquet  board  prepare ! 
Throw  wide  the  portal  of  my  hall, 

And  bring  my  armor  there  1 " 

5.  A  hundred  hands  were  busy  then ; 

The  banquet  forth  was  spread, 
And  rang  the  heavy  oaken  floor 

With  many  a  martial  tread ; 
While  from  the  rich,  dark  tracery. 

Along  the  vaulted  wall, 
Lights  gleamed  on  harness,  plume,  and  spear. 

O'er  the  proud  Gothic  hall. 

1.  Fast  hurrying  through  the  outer  gate, 

The  mailed  retainers  poured 
On  through  the  portal's  frowning  arch, 

And  thronged  around  the  board ; 
While  at  its  heati,  within  his  dark, 

Carved  oaken  chair  of  state, 
Armed  cap-a-pie,  stern  Kudiger, 

With  girded  falchion  sate. 

7.  **  Fill  every  beaker  up,  my  men  I 
Pour  forth  the  cheering  wine  1 
There's  life  and  strength  in  every  drop, 
Thanksgiving  to  the  vine  1 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  869 

Are  ye  all  there,  my  vassals  true  ? — 

Mine  eyes  are  waxing  dim : 
Fill  round,  my  tried  and  fearless  ones, 

Each  goblet  to  the  brim  I 

8    "  Ye're  there,  but  yet  I  see  you  not  I 

Draw  forth  each  trusty  sword. 

And  let  me  hear  your  faithful  steel 

Clash  once  around  my  board  I 
I  hear  it  faintly — louder  yet  1 

What  clogs  my  heavy  breath  ? 
Up,  all  I  and  shout  for  Rudiger, 
.  *  Defiance  unto  death  I  "* 

9.  Bowl  rang  to  bowl,  steel  clanged  to  steel, 

And  rose  a  deafening  cry. 
That  made  the  torches  flare  around, 

And  shook  the  flags  on  high : 
"  Ho  !  cravens  I  do  ye  fear  him  ? 

Slaves  I  traitors  1  have  ye  flown  ? 
Ho!  cowards,  have  ye  left  me 

To  meet  him  here  alone  ? 

10.  "  But  I  defy  him  I  let  him  come  1 " 

Down  rang  the  massy  cup. 
While  from  its  sheath  the  ready  blade 

Came  flashing  half-way  up ; 
And  with  the  black  and  heavy  plumes 

Scarce  trembling  on  his  head, 
There,  in  his  dark,  carved,  oaken  chair, 

Old  Rudiger  sat — dead  I 


Bernardo  Del  Carpio. 

Mrs.  Rema/na. 

The  warrior  bowed  his  crested  head,  and  tamed  his  heart  of  fire 
And  sued  the  haughty  king  to  free  his  long-imprisoned  sire ; 
"  I  bring  thee  here  my  fortress-keys,  I  bring  my  captive  train ; 
I  pledge  thee  faith,  my  liege,  my  lordl — 0  break  my  father's 
chain  1 " 

24 


,370  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

2.  "  Rise,  rise  1  even  now  thy  father  comes,  a  ransomed  man  this  day! 
Mount  thy  good  horse,  and  thou  and  I  will  meet  him  on  his  way." 
Then  hghtly  rose  that  loyal  son,  and  bounded  on  his  steed, 
And  urged,  as  if  with  lance  in  rest,  the  charger's  foamy  speed. 

3  And  lol  from  far,  as  on  they  pressed,  there  came  a  glittering 

band, 
With  one  that  'midst  them  stately  rode,  as  a  leader  in  the  land  ! 
"  Now  haste,  Bernardo,  haste  I  for  there,  in  very  truth,  is  he. 
The  father  whom  thy  faithful  heart  hath  yearned  so  long  to  see." 

4  His  dark  eye  flashed,  his  proud  breast  heaved,  his  cheek's  hue 

came  and  went ; 
He  reached   that  gray-haired  chieftain's   side,   and  there,   dis- 
mounting, bent; 
A  lowly  knee  to  earth  he  bent,  his  father's  hand  he  took — 
"What  was  there  in  its  touch  that  all  his  fiery  spirit  shook  ? 

5.  That  hand  was  cold — a  frozen  thing — it  dropped  from  his  like 

lead  I 
He  looked  up  to  the  face  above — the  face  was  of  the  dead  1 
A  plume  waved  o'er  the  noble  brow — the  brow  was  fixed  and 

white ; 
He  met,  at  last,  his  father's  eyes — ^but  in  them  was  no  sight  1 

6.  Up  from  the  ground  he  sprang  and  gazed;  but  who  could  paint 

that  gaze  ? 
They  hushed  their  very  hearts,  that  saw  its  horror  and  amaze — 
They  might  have  chained  him,  as  before  that  stony  form  he 

stood ; 
For  the  power  was  stricken  from  his  arm,  and  from  his  lip  the 

blood. 

X,  "  Father  I "  at  last  he  murmured  low,  and  wept  like  childhood 
then: 
Talk  not  of  grief  till  thou  hast  seen  the  tears  of  warlike  men  I 
He  thought  on  all  his  glorious  hopes,  and  all  his  young  renown- 
He  flung  his  falchion  from  his  side,  and  in  the  dust  sat  down. 

8   Then  covering  with  his  steel-gloved  hands  his  darkly  mournful 
brow, 
"No  more,  there  is  no  more,"  he  said,  "to  lift  the  sword  for  now; 
My  kiLg  is  false — my  hope  betrayed  I    My  father! — 0  the  worth, 
The  glory,  and  the  loveliness  are  passed  away  from  earth  1 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  871 

9.  "I  thought  to  stand  where  banners  waved,  my  she,  beside  thee 

yetl 
I  would  thjit  there  our  kindred  blood  on  Spain's  free  soil  had  met ! 
Thou  wouldst  have  known  my  spirit  then;    for  thee  my  fields 

were  won ; 
And  thou  hast  perished  in  thy  chains,  as  though  thou  hadst  no 

son  1 " 

10.  Then,  starting  from  the  ground  once  more,  he  seized  the  monarch's 

rein, 
Amid  the  pale  and  wildered  looks  of  all  the  courtier  train ; 
And  with  a  fierce,  o'ermastering  grasp,  the  rearing  war-horse  led, 
And  sternly  set  them  face  to  face — the  king  before  the  dead: 

11.  "  Came  I  not  forth,  upon  thy  pledge,  my  father's  hand  to  kiss? 
Be  still,  and  gaze  thou  on,  false  king  I  and  tell  me,  what  is  this? 
The  voice,  the  glance,  the  heart  I  sought — give  answer,  where  are 

they? 
If  thou  wouldst  clear  thy  perjured  soul,  send  life  through  this 
cold  clay  1 

12.  "Into  these  glassy  eyes  put  light — be  stiUl  keep  down  thine  ire! 
Bid  these  white  lips  a  blessing  speak — this  earth  is  not  my  sire ; 
Give  me  back  him  for  whom  I  strove,  for  whom  my  blood  was 

shed  I 
Thou  canst  not  ? — and  a  king  I — his  dust  be  mountains  on  thy 
headl" 

13.  He  loosed  the  steed — Ms  slack  hand  fell ;  upon  the  silent  face 
He  cast  one  long,  deep,  troubled  look,  then  turned  from  that  sad 

place  ; 
His  hope  was  crushed ;  his  after  fate  untold  in  martial  strain ; 
His  banner  led  the  spears  no  more  amid  the  hills  of  Spain. 


The  Raven. 

Edgar  A.  Poe, 
1.  Once  upon  a  midnight  dreary,  while  I  pondered,  weak  and  weary, 
Over  many  a  quaint  and  curious  volume  of  forgotten  lore — 
While  I  nodded,  nearly  napping,  suddenly  there  came  a  tapping, 
As  of  some  one  gently  rapping,  rapping  at  my  chamber  door. 
**  'Tis  some  visitor,"  I  muttered,  "  tapping  at  my  chanzber  door— 
Only  this,  and  nothing  more." 


372  SCIENCE  OF  elocutio:n-. 

2.  Ah,  distinctly  I  remember,  it  was  in  the  bleak  December, 

And  each  separate  dying  ember  wrought  its  ghost  upon  the  flocn'. 
Eagerly  I  wished  the  morrow :  vainly  I  had  sought  to  borrow 
From  my  books  surcease  of  sorrow — sorrow  for  the  lost  Lenore— - 
For  the  rare  and  radiant  maiden  whom  the  angels  named  Lenore — 
Nameless  here  for  evermore. 

3.  And  the  silken,  sad,  uncertain  rustling  of  each  purple  curtain, 
Thrilled  me — filled  me  with  fantastic  terrors  never  felt  before ; 
So  that  now,  to  still  the  beating  of  my  heart,  I  stood  repeatinj^, 
"  'Tis  some  visitor  entreating  entrance  at  my  chamber  door — 
Some  late  visitor  entreating  entrance  at  my  chamber-door; 

That  it  is,  and  nothing  more." 

4.  Presently  my  soul  grew  stronger ;  hesitating  then  no  longer, 
"Sir,"  said  I,  "or  Madam,  truly  your  forgiveness  I  implore; 
But  the  fact  is,  I  was  napping,  and  so  gently  you  came  rapping, 
And  so  faintly  you  came  tapping,  tapping  at  my  chamber  door, 
That  I  scarce  was  sure  I  heard  you  " — here  I  opened  wide  the  door: 

Darkness  there,  and  nothing  more. 

5.  Deep  into  that  darkness  peering,  long  I  stood  there,  wondering, 

fearing. 
Doubting,  dreaming  dreams  no  mortal  ever  dared  to  dream  before ; 
But  the  silence  was  unbroken,  and  the  darkness  gave  no  token, 
And  the  only  word  there  spoken  was  the  whispered  word  "  Lenore  I" 
This  /whispered,  and  an  echo  murmered  back  the  word  "  Lenose  1" 
Merely  this,  and  nothing  more. 

6.  Back  into  the  chamber  turning,  all  my  soul  within  me  burning. 
Soon  again  I  heard  a  tapping,  something  louder  than  before. 

"  Surely,"  said  I,  "  surely  that  is  something  at  my  window-lattice ; 
Let  me  see  then  what  thereat  is,  and  this  mystery  explore — 
Let  my  heart  be  still  a  moment,  and  this  mystery  explore ; — 
'Tis  the  wind,  and  nothing  more." 

1    Open  then  I  flung  the  shutter,  when,  witli  many  a  flirt  and  flutter, 
In  there  stepped  a  stately  raven  of  the  saintly  days  of  yore. 
Not  the  least  obeisance  made  he;    not  an  instant  stopped  oi 

stayed  he; 
But,  with  mien  of  lord  or  lady,  perched  above  my  chamber  door- 
Perched  upon  a  bust  of  Pallas,  just  above  my  chamber  door — 
Perched,  and  sat,  and  nothing  more. 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  873 

8   Then  this  ebony  bird  beguiling  my  sad  fancy  into  smiling, 
By  the  grave  and  stern  decorum  of  the  countenance  it  wore, 
"  Though  thy  crest  be  shorn  and  shaven,  thou,"  I  said,  "  art  sure 

no  craven ; 
Ghastly,  grim,  and  ancient  raven,  wandering  from  the  nightly  shore, 
Tell  me  what  thy  lordly  name  is  on  the  Night's  Plutonian  shore  ?  ' 
Quoth  the  raven,  "  Nevermore  I  " 

9.  Much  I  marveled  this  ungainly  fowl  to  hear  discourse  so  plainly, 
Though  its  answer  little  meaning — little  relevancy  bore; 
For  we  cannot  help  agreeing  that  no  living  human  being 
Ever  yet  was  blessed  with  seeing  bird  above  his  chamber  door- 
Bird  or  beast  upon  the  sculptured  bust  above  his  chamber  door 
With  such  name  as  "  Nevermore  1  " 

10.  But  the  raven  sitting  lonely  on  the  placid  bust,  spoke  only 
That  one  word,  as  if  his  soul  in  that  one  word  he  did  outpour. 
Nothing  further  then  he  uttered — not  a  feather  then  he  fluttered — 
Till  I  scarcely  more  than  muttered,  "  Other  friends  have  flown 

before — 
On  the  morrow  he  will  leave  me,  as  my  hopes  have  flown  before.* 
Then  the  bird  said,  '*  Nevermore  I  " 

1 1.  Startled  at  the  stillness,  broken  by  reply  so  aptly  spoken, 

*' Doubtless,"  said  I,  *'what  it  utters  is  its  only  stock  and  store, 
Caught  from  some  unhappy  master,  whom  unmerciful  disaster 
Followed  fast  and  followed  faster,  till  his  song  one  burden  bore — 
Till  the  dirges  of  his  hope  that  melancholy  burden  bore, 
Of  '  Never — nevermore  1 '  " 

12.  But  the  raven  still  beguiling  all  my  sad  soul  into  smiling, 
Straight  I  wheeled  a  cushioned  seat  in  front  of  bird,  and  bust,  and 

door. 
Then,  upon  the  velvet  sinking,  I  betook  myself  to  linking 
Fancy  unto  fancy,  thinking  what  this  ominous  bird  of  yore  — 
What  this  grim,  ungainly,  ghastly,  gaunt,  and  ominous  bird  of  yore 
Meant  in  croaking  "  Nevermore  1 " 

13    Thus  I  sat  engaged  in  guessing,  but  no  syllable  expressing 

To  the  fowl,  whose  fiery  eyes  now  burned  into  my  bosom's  core; 
This  and  more  I  sat  divining,  with  my  head  at  ease  reclining 
On  the  cushion's  velvet  lining  that  the  lamp-light  gloated  o'er, 
But  whose  velvet  violet  lining,  with  the  lamp-light  gloati»3g  o'er 
She  shall  press — ah!  nevermore  I 


374:  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

14.  Then  methought  the  air  grew  denser,  perfumed  from  an  unseen 

censer 
Swung  by  seraphim,  whose  faint  foot-falls  tinkled  on  the  tufted 

floor. 
"  Wretch  1 "  I  cried,  "  thy  God  hath  lent  thee— by  these  angeiy 

he  hath  sent  thee 
Respite — respite  and  nepenthe  from  thy  memories  of  Lenore  I 
Quaff,  0  quaff  this  kind  nepenthe,  and  forgei  this  lost  Lenore  1 " 
Quoth  the  raven,  *' Nevermore  '  " 

15.  "  Prophet  I "  said  I,  "  thing  of  evil  I — prophet  still,  if  bird  or  devil  I 
Whether  tempter  sent,  or  whether  tempest  tossed  thee  here  ashore, 
Desolate,  yet  all  undaunted,  on  this  desert  land  enchanted — 

On  this  home  by  Horror  haunted— tell  me  truly,  I  implore — 
Is  there — is  there  balm  in  Grilead  ? — tell  me — tell  me,  I  implore  1 " 
Quoth  the  raven,  "  Nevermore  I  " 

J6,  "Prophet!"  said  I,  "thingofevill — prophet  still,  if  bird  or  devil  I 
By  that  heaven  that  bends  above  us — by  that  God  we  both  adore, 
Tell  this  soul  with  sorrow  laden,  if,  within  the  distant  Aidenn, 
It  shall  clasp  a  sainted  maiden,  whom  the  angels  name  Lenore ; 
Clasp  a  fair  and  radiant  maiden,  whom  the  angels  name  Lenore  1 " 
Quoth  the  raven,  "  Nevermore  I  " 

17.  "Be  that  word  our  sign  of  parting,  bird  or  fiend  1"   I  shrieked 

upstarting — 
"  Get  tliee  back  into  the  tempest  and  the  Night's  Plutonian  shore  I 
Leave  no  black  plume  as  a  token  of  that  he  thy  soul  hath  spoken  1 
Leave  my  loneliness  unbroken!— quit  the  bust  above  my  door! 
Take  thy  beak  from  out  my  heart,  and  take  thy  form  from  off  my 

door ! " 

Quoth  the  raven,  "  Nevermore !  " 

18.  And  the  raven,  never  flitting,  still  is  sitting,  still  is  sitting 
On  the  pallid  bust  of  Pallas,  just  above  my  chamber  door ; 
And  his  eyes  have  all  the  seeming  of  a  demon  that  is  dreaming, 
And  the  lamp-light  o'er  him  streaming  throws  his  shadow  on  the 

floor; 
And  my  soul  from  out  that  shadow  that  lies  floating  on  the  floor 
Shall  be  lifted— nevermore  1 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  375 

Scene  from  Hamlet. 

Act  III.    Scene  III. 
[Enter  Queen  and  Polonius.] 

Pol.  He  will  come  straight.    Look,  you  lay  home  to  him : 
Tell  him  his  pranks  have  been  too  broad  to  bear  with ; 
And  that  your  grace  hath  screened  and  stood  between 
Much  heat  and  him.     I'll  sconce  me  even  here. 
Pray  you  be  round  with  him. 

Queen.  I'll  warrant  you — 
Fear  me  not.     Withdraw,  I  hear  him  coming. 

[Polonivs  conceals  himself  behind  the  arras."] 

Hamlet  Now,  mother,  what's  the  matter  ? 

Queen.  Hamlet,  thou  hast  thy  father  much  offended. 

Hamlet.  Mother,  you  have  my  father  much  offended. 

Queen.  Come,  come,  you  answer  with  an  idle  tongue. 

Hamlet.  Go,  go,  you  question  with  a  wicked  tongue. 

Queen.  Why,  how  now,  Hamlet  ? 

Hamlet.  What's  the  matter  now  ? 

Queen.  Have  you  forgot  me  ? 

Hamlet,  No,  by  the  rood,  not  so: 

Ton  are  the  queen :  your  husband's  brother's  wife ; 
And — would  it  were  not  so  I — ^you  are  my  mother. 

Queen.  Nay,  then  I'll  set  those  to  you  that  can  speak. 

Hamlet.  Come,  come,  and  sit  you  down ;  you  shall  not  budge. 
You  go  not  till  I  set  you  up  a  glass 
Where  you  may  see  the  inmost  part  of  you. 

Queen.  What  wilt  thou  do  ? — thou  wilt  not  murder  me  ? 

Hamlet  Leave  wringing  of  your  hands :  peace ;  sit  you  down. 
And  let  me  wring  your  heart :  for  so  I  shall 
If  it  be  made  of  penetrable  stuff; 
If  damned  custom  have  not  brazed  it  so 
That  it  is  proof  and  bulwark  against  sense. 

Queen.  What  have  I  done,  that  thou  darest  wag  thy  tongue 
Id  noise  so  rude  against  me  ? 

Hamlet  Such  an  act, 

That  blurs  the  grace  and  blush  of  modesty ; 
Calls  virtue,  hypocrite  ;  takes  off  the  rose 
Prom  the  fair  forehead  of  an  innocent  love 
And  sets  a  blister  there ;  makes  marriage  vows 
As  false  as  dicer's  oath  !     Oh,  such  a  deed 


876  SCIENCE  OF   ELOCUTION. 

As  from  the  body  of  contraction  plucks 

The  very  soul ;  and  sweet  religion  makes 

A  rhapsody  of  words.     Heaven's  face  doth  glow; 

Yea,  this  solidity  and  compound  mass, 

"With  tristful  visage,  as  against  the  doom, 

Is  thought-sick  at  the  act. 

Queen.  Ay  me  I  what  act, 

That  roars  so  loud,  and  thunders  in  the  index  ? 

Hamlet.  Look  here,  upon  this  picture,  and  on  this ; 
The  counterfeit  presentment  of  two  brothers. 
See  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  this  brow : 
Hyperion's  curls ;  the  front  of  Jove  himself; 
An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command ; 
A  station  like  the  herald  Mercury, 
New-lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill ; 
A  combination,  and  a  form,  indeed. 
Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man. 
This  was  your  husband.    Look  you,  now,  what  follows: 
Here  is  your  husband ;  like  a  mildewed  ear. 
Blasting  his  wholesome  brother.     Have  you  eyes  ? 
Could  you  on  this  fair  mountain  leave  to  feed. 
And  batten  on  this  moor  ?    Ha  1  have  you  eyes  ? 
Tou  cannot  call  it  love,  for  at  your  age 
The  heyday  in  the  blood  is  tame,  it's  humble, 
And  waits  upon  the  judgment ;  and  what  judgment 
Would  step  from  this  to  this  ? 

Queen.  Oh,  speak  no  more  I 

Thou  turnest  mine  eyes  into  my  very  soul ; 
And  there  I  see  such  black  and  grained  spots. 
As  will  not  leave  their  tinct.     Oh,  speak  to  me  no  more  I 
These  words,  like  daggers,  enter  in  mine  ears ; 
No  more,  sweet  Hamlet  1 

Hamlet.  A  murderer  and  a  villain : 

A  slave  that  is  not  twentieth  part  the  tithe 
Of  your  precedent  lord : — a  vice  of  kings : 
A  cut-purse  of  the  empire  and  the  rule ; 
Tliat  from  a  shelf  the  precious  diadem  stole 
And  put  it  in  his  pocket  1 

Queen.  No  more ! 

Hamlet.  A  king 

Of  shreds  and  patches ; [Enter  Ghobt.] 


DRAMATIC  STYLE.  377 

Save  me  and  hover  o'er  me  with  your  wings 

You  heavenly  guards  I     "What  would  your  gracious  figure  ? 

Queen.  Alas,  he's  mad  I 

Hamlet.  Do  you  not  come  your  tardy  son  to  oliido^ 
That,  lapsed  in  time  and  passion,  lets  go  by 
The  important  acting  of  your  dread  command  ? 
Oil,  sayl 

Ghost  Do  not  forget ;  this  visitation 
Is  but  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted  purpose. 
But,  look  1  amazement  on  thy  mother  sits ; 
Oh,  step  between  her  and  her  fighting  soul ; 
Conceit  in  weakest  bodies  'strongest  works : 
Speak  to  her,  Hamlet. 

Hamlet.  How  is  it  with  you,  lady? 

Queen.  Alas  I  how  is't  with  you. 
That  you  do  bend  your  eye  on  vacancy. 
And  with  the  incorporeal  air  do  hold  discourse  ? 
Whereon  do  you  look  ? 

Hamlet.  On  him  I  on  him  1     Look  you,  how  pale  he  glares. 
His  form  and  cause  conjoined,  preaching  to  stones, 
"Would  make  them  capable.     Do  not  look  on  me, 
Lest  with  this  piteous  action  you  convert 
My  stern  effects :  then  what  I  have  to  do 
Will  want  true  color ;  tears,  perchance,  for  blood. 

Queen.  To  whom  do  you  speak  this  ? 

Hamlet.  Do  you  see  nothing  there  ? 

Queen.  Nothing  at  all ;  yet  all  that  is  I  see. 

Hamlet.  Nor  did  you  nothing  hear  ? 

Queen,  No,  nothing,  but  ourselves. 

Hamlet.  Why,  look  you  there  I  look,  how  it  steals  away  1 
My  father,  in  his  habit  as  he  lived  1 
Look,  where  he  goes,  even  now,  out  at  the  portal ! 

[iSct?  Ghost. 

Queen.  This  is  the  very  coinage  of  your  brain ; 
This  bodiless  creation  ecstasy 
Is  very  cunning  in. 

Hamlet.  Ecstasy  I 

My  pulse,  as  yours,  doth  temperately  keep  time, 
And  makes  as  healthful  music.     It  is  not  madness 
That  I  have  uttered :  bring  me  to  the  test. 
And  I  the  matter  will  re- word,  which  madness 
Would  gambol  from.     Mother,  for  love  of  grace, 


378  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Lay  not  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul, 
That  not  your  trespass,  but  my  madness,  speaks : 
It  will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place, 
Whilst  rank  corruption,  mining  all  within, 
Infects  unseen     Confess  yourself  to  Heaven ; 
Repent  what's  past ;  avoid  what  is  to  come  ; 
And  do  not  spread  the  compost  on  the  weeds 
To  make  them  ranker. 

Queen.  0  Hamlet  I  thou  hast  cleft  my  heart  in  twain. 

Hamlet  Oh,  throw  away  the  woro^r  part  of  it 
And  live  the  purer  with  the  other  half. 
Good-night:  once  more,  good -night  1 
And  when  you  are  desirous  to  be  blest, 
I'll  blessing  beg  of  you. 


HUMOEOUS     STYLE 

Evening  at  the  Farm. 

J.  T,  Trowbridge. 

1.  Over  the  hill  the  farm-boy  goes ; 

His  shadow  lengthens  along  the  land, 
A  giant  staff  in  a  giant  hand  ; 
In  the  poplar-tree,  above  the  spring, 
The  katy-did  begins  to  sing  ; 

The  early  dews  are  falling ; 
Into  the  stone-heap  darts  the  mink; 
The  swallows  skim  the  river's  brink ; 
And  home  to  the  woodland  fly  the  crows, 
When  over  the  hill  the  farm-boy  goes. 
Cheerily  calling, 

"  Co',  boss !  co',  boss  I  co'  I  co'  1  co'  1 " 
Farther,  farther,  over  the  liill, 
faintly  calling,  calling  still, 

"Co',  boss  I  co',  boss!  co'!  co'!  co'I" 

2.  Now  to  her  task  the  milkmaid  goes. 

The  cattle  come  crowding  through  the  gate, 
Looing,  pushing,  little  and  great; 
About  the  trough,  by  the  farm-yard  pump. 
The  frolicksome  yearlino;s  frisk  and  jump. 

While  the  pleasant  dews  are  falling; 


HUMOROUS  STYLE.  379 

The  new  milch  heifer  is  quick  and  shy, 
But  the  old  cow  waits  with  tranquil  eye, 
And  the  white  stream  into  tlie  bright  pail  flows, 
When  to  her  task  the  milkmaid  goes, 

Soothingly  calling; 
"So,  boss!  so,  boss!  so!  so!  sol" 
The  cheerful  milkmaid  takes  her  stool, 
And  sits  and  milks  in  the  twilight  cool, 

Saying,  "So!  so,  boss!  sol  so!" 

3.  To  supper  at  last  the  farmer  goes. 
The  apples  are  pared,  the  paper  read, 
The  stories  are  told,  then  all  to  bed. 
"Without,  the  crickets'  ceaseless  song 
Makes  shrill  the  silence  all  night  long; 

The  heavy  dews  are  falling. 
The  housewife's  hand  has  turned  the  lock; 
Drowsily  ticks  the  kitchen  clock ; 
The  household  sinks  to  deep  repose, 
But  still  in  sleep  the  farm-boy  goes. 

Singing,  calling — 
"Co',  boss!  co',  boss!  co'!  co'!  co'I" 
And  oft  the  milkmaid,  in  her  dreams, 
Drums  in  the  pail  with  the  flashing  streams, 

Murmuring,  "  So,  boss !  so  I  " 


An  Idyl  of  the  Period. 

G.  A.  Baker. 


"  Come  right  in  I     How  are  you,  Fred  f 

Find  a  chair,  and  have  a  light." 
"  Well,  old  boy,  recovered  yet 

From  the  Mathers'  jam  last  night?" 
**  Didn't  dance — the  German's  old." 

"  Didn't  you  ?     I  had  to  lead — 
Awful  bore!  —but  where  were  you?" 

"Sat  it  out  with  Molly  Meade; 


880  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION  . 

Jolly  little  girl  she  is — 

Said  she  didn't  care  to  dance, 
*D  rather  have  a  quiet  chat — 

Then  she  gave  me  such  a  glance. 
So  when  you  had  cleared  the  room, 

And  had  captured  all  the  chairs, 
Having  nowhere  else,  we  two 

Took  possession  of  the  stairs. 
I  was  on  a  lower  step, 

Molly  on  the  next  above ; 
Gave  me  her  bouquet  to  hold — 

Asked  me  to  draw  off  her  glove. 
Then,  of  course,  I  squeezed  her  hand 

Talked  about  my  wasted  life ; 
Said  my  sole  salvation  must 

Be  a  true  and  gentle  wife. 
Then,  you  know,  I  used  my  eyes — 

She  believed  me  every  word ; 
Almost  said  she  loved  me — Jove  I 

Sucli  a  voice  I  never  heard — 
Gave  me  some  symbolic  flower, 

Had  a  meaning,  0 1  so  sweet. 
Don't  know  what  it  is,  I'm  sure ; 

Must  have  dropped  it  in  the  street. 
How  I  spooned  1  and  she — hal  hal 

Well,  I  know  it  wasn't  right, 
But  she  did  believe  me  so, 

That  I — kissed  her — pass  a  light." 

II. 

**  Molly  Meade,  well  I  declare  I 

Who'd  have  thought  of  seeing  you, 
After  what  occurred  last  niglit, 

Out  here  on  the  avenue  ? 
O I  you  awful,  awful  girl  I 

There — don't  blush — I  saw  it  all.'* 
"  Saw  all  what  ?  "     "  Ahem — last  night— 

At  the  Mathers',  in  the  hall." 
*'0!  you  horrid — where  were  you? 

Wasn't  he  an  awful  goose  ? 
Most  men  must  be  caught,  but  he 

Ran  his  neck  right  in  the  noose. 


HUMOROUS  STYLE.  881 

I  was  almost  dead  to  dance, 

I'd  have  done  it  if  I  could ; 
But  old  Gray  said  I  must  stop, 

And  I'd  promised  ma  I  would ; 
So  I  looked  up  sweet  and  said 

That  I'd  rather  talk  with  him. 
Hope  he  didn't  see  my  face  ; 

Luckily  the  lights  were  dim ; 
Then  how  he  did  squeeze  my  hand— 

And  he  looked  up  in  my  face 
"With  his  lovely,  great  big  eyes — 

Really  it's  a  dreadful  case. 
He  was  all  in  earnest,  too  ; 

But  I  thought  I'd  have  to  laugh 
"When  he  kissed  a  flower  I  gave, 

Looking — 0 !  like  such  a  calf  1 
I  suppose  he  has  it  now 

In  a  wine-glass  on  his  shelves — 
It's  a  mystery  to  me 

Why  men  will  deceive  themselves. 
Saw  him  kiss  me  !     0  !  you  wretch — 

Well  he  begged  so  hard  for  one, 
And  I  thought  there'd  no  one  know, 

So  I — ^let  him — just  for  fun. 
I  know  it  wasn't  really  right 

To  trifle  with  his  feelings,  dear. 
But  men  are  such  conceited  things, 

They  need  a  lesson  once  a  year. 


Pyramus  AND  Thisbe. 

John  Q.  Saxe. 

This  tragical  tale,  which  they  say  is  a  true  one, 

Is  old ;  but  the  manner  is  wholly  a  new  one. 

One  Ovid^  a  writer  of  some  reputation. 

Has  told  it  before  in  a  tedious  narration ; 

In  a  style,  to  be  sure,  of  remarkable  fullness, 

But  which  nobody  reads  on  account  of  its  dullness. 


382  SCIENCE   OF  ELOCUTION. 

Toung  Peter  Pyramus — T  call  him  Peter, 
Not  for  the  sake  of  the  rhyme  or  the  metre ; 
But  merely  to  make  the  name  completer — 
For  Peter  lived  in  the  olden  times, 
And  in  one  of  the  worst  of  pagan  climes 
That  flourish  now  in  classical  fame, 
Long  before  either  noble  or  boor 
Had  such  a  thing  as  a  Christian  name. 
Young  Peter,  then,  was  a  nice  young  beau 
As  any  young  lady  would  wish  to  know ; 
In  years,  I  ween,  he  was  rather  green, 
That  is  to  say,  he  was  just  eighteen — 
A  trifle  too  short,  a  shaving  too  lean. 
But  "  a  nice  young  man  "  as  ever  was  seen. 
And  fit  to  dance  with  a  May-day  queen  I 

Now  Peter  loved  a  beautiful  girl 

As  ever  ensnared  the  heart  of  an  earL 

In  the  magical  trap  of  an  auburn  curl — 

A  little  Miss  Thisbe,  who  lived  next  door, 

(They  slept,  in  fact,  on  the  very  same  floor. 

With  a  wall  between  them  and  nothing  more— 

Those  double  dwellings  were  common  of  yore^) 

And  they  loved  each  other,  the  legends  say, 

In  that  very  beautiful,  bountiful  way, 

That  every  young  maid  and  every  young  blade 

Are  wont  to  do  before  they  grow  staid, 

And  learn  to  love  by  the  laws  of  trade  j 

But  (alack-a-day,  for  the  girl  and  boy  1) 

A  Uttle  impediment  checked  their  joy. 

And  gave  them  awhile  the  deepest  annoy ; 

For  some  good  reason,  which  history  cloaks, 

The  match  didn't  happen  to  please  the  old  folks  I 

So  Thisbe's  father  and  Peter's  mother 

Began  the  young  couple  to  worry  and  bother, 

And  tried  their  innocent  passion  to  smother. 

By  keeping  the  lovers  from  seeing  each  other  I 

But  who  ever  heard  of  a  marriage  deterred, 

Or  even  deferred. 

By  any  contrivance  so  very  absurd 

As  scolding  the  boy  and  caging  the  bird  ? 

Now  Peter,  who  wasn't  discouraged  at  all 

By  obstacles  such  as  the  timid  appal. 


HUMOROUS  STYLE.  883 

Contrived  to  discover  a  hole  in  the  wall, 

Which  wasn't  so  thick  but  removing  a  brick 

Made  a  passage — though  rather  provokingly  smalL 

Through  this  little  chink  the  lover  could  greet  her, 

And  secrecy  made  their  courting  the  sweeter, 

While  Peter  kissed  Thisbe,  and  Thisbe  kissed  Peter — 

For  kisses,  like  folks  with  diminutive  souls, 

Will  manage  to  creep  through  the  smallest  of  holes  I 

*Twas  here  that  the  lovers,  intent  upon  love. 

Made  a  nice  little  plot  to  meet  at  a  spot 

Near  a  mulberry  tree  in  a  neighboring  grove ; 

For  the  plan  was  all  laid  by  the  youth  and  the  maid, 

Whose  hearts,  it  would  seem,  were  uncommonly  bold  onei^ 

To  run  off  and  get  married  in  spite  of  the  old  ones. 

In  the  shadows  of  evening,  as  still  as  a  mousOi 

The  beautiful  maiden  slipped  out  of  the  house, 

The  mulberry  tree  impatient  to  find ; 

While  Peter,  the  vigilant  matrons  to  blind, 

Strolled  leisurely  out,  some  minutes  behind- 

While  waiting  alone  by  the  trysting  tree, 

A  terrible  lion  as  e'er  you  set  eye  on, 

Came  roaring  along  quite  horrid  to  see, 

And  caused  the  young  maiden  in  terror  to  flee, 

(A  lion's  a  creature  whose  regular  trade  is 

Blood — and  "  a  terrible  thing  among  ladies,") 

And  losing  her  vail  as  she  ran  from  the  wood, 

The  monster  bedabbled  it  over  with  blood. 

Now  Peter  arriving,  and  seeing  the  vail 

All  covered  o'er  and  reeking  with  gore, 

Turned,  all  of  a  sudden,  exceedingly  pale, 

And  sat  himself  down  to  weep  and  to  wail — 

For,  soon  as  he  saw  the  garment,  poor  Peter 

Made  up  his  mind  in  very  short  metre 

That  Thisbe  was  dead,  and  the  lion  had  eat  her  I 

So  breathing  a  prayer,  he  determined  to  share 

The  fate  of  his  darling,  "  the  loved  and  the  lost," 

And  fell  on  his  dagger,  and  gave  up  the  ghost ! 

Now  Thisbe  returning,  and  viewing  her  beau. 

Lying  dead  by  her  vail,  (which  she  happened  to  know,, 

She  guessed  in  a  moment  the  cause  of  his  erring ; 

And,  seizing  the  knife  that  had  taken  his  life, 

In  less  than  a  jiffy  was  dead  as  a  herring. 


384  SCIENCE  OF  ELOCUTION. 

MORAL. 

Young  gentlemen  1 — pray  recollect,  if  you  please, 
Not  to  make  assignations  near  mulberry  trees. 
Should  your  mistress  be  missing,  it  shows  a  weak  head 
To  be  stabbing  yourself  till  you  know  she  is  dead. 
Young  ladies  I — you  shouldn't  go  strolling  about 
When  your  anxious  mammas  don't  know  you  are  out ; 
And  remember  that  accidents  often  befall 
From  kissing  young  fellows  through  holes  in  the  wall! 


Mr.  Pickwick's  Proposal  to  Mrs.  Barbell. 

Dickens. 

It  was  evident  that  something  of  great  importance  was  in  contem- 
plation, but  what  that  something  was  not  even  Mrs.  Bardell  herself 
had  been  enabled  t6  discover. 

**  Mrs.  Bardell,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  at  last  as  that  amiable  female 
approached  the  termination  of  a  prolonged  dusting  of  the  apartment. 

♦'  Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell. 

"  Your  httle  boy  is  a  very  long  time  gone." 

""Why,  it  is  a  good  long  way  to  the  Borough,  sir,"  remonstrated 
Mrs.  Bardell. 

"Ah,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "very  true;  so  it  is." 

Mr.  Pickwick  relapsed  into  silence,  and  Mrs.  Bardell  resumed  hei 
dusting. 

"  Mrs.  Bardell,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick  at  the  expiration  of  a  few 
minutes. 

'*  Sir,"  said  Mrs.  BardeD  again. 

"  Do  you  think  it's  a  much  greater  expense  to  keep  two  people  than 
to  keep  one  ?  " 

"  La,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  colormg  up  to  the  very 
border  of  her  cap,  as  she  fancied  she  observed  a  species  of  matri- 
monial twinkle  in  the  eyes  of  her  lodger;  "La,  Mr.  Pickwick,  what 
a  question ! " 

"Well,  but  do  you?"  inquired  Mr.  Pickwick. 

"That  depends" — said  Mrs.  Bardell,  approachmg  the  duster  very 
near  to  Mr.  Pickwick's  elbow,  which  was  planted  on  the  table;  "that 
depends  a  good  deal  upon  the  person,  you  know,  Mr.  Pickwick;  and 
whether  it's  a  saving  and  careful  person,  sir." 


HUMOliOUS  STYLE.  385 

"  That's  very  true,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick;  "but  the  person  1  have  in 
my  eye  (here  he  looked  very  hard  at  Mrs.  Bardell)  I  think  possesses 
these  qualities,  and  has,  moreover,  a  considerable  knowledge  of  the 
world,  and  a  great  deal  of  sharpness,  Mrs.  Bardell,  which  may  be  of 
material  use  to  me." 

''La,. Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  the  crimson  rising  to  her 
cap-Dorder  again. 

"  I  do,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  growing  energetic,  as  was  his  wont  in 
speaking  of  a  subject  which  interested  him ;  "  I  do,  indeed  •  and  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  Mrs.  Bardell,  I  have  made  up  my  mind." 

"  Dear  me,  sir ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bardell. 

"  You'll  think  it  not  very  strange  now,"  said  the  amiable  Mr.  Pick- 
wick, with  a  good-humored  glance  at  his  companion,  "that  I  never 
consulted  you  about  this  matter,  and  never  mentioned  it  till  I  sent 
vour  little  boy  out  this  morning — eh  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bardell  could  only  reply  by  a  look.  She  had  long  worshiped 
Mr.  Pickwick  at  a  distance,  but  here  she  was,  all  at  once,  raised  to  a 
pinnacle  to  which  her  wildest  and  most  extravagant  hopes  had  never 
dared  to  aspire.  Mr.  Pickv/ick  was  going  to  propose — a  deliberate 
plan,  too — sent  her  little  boy  to  the  Borough  to  get  him  out  of  the 
way — how  thoughtful — how  considerate ! 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  "what  do  you  think?" 

"0,  Mr.  Pickwick,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell,  trembling  witn  agitation, 
"you're  very  khid,  sir." 

"  It'll  save  you  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  wont  it  ?  "  said  Mr.  Pick- 
wick. 

"  0,  I  never  thought  any  thing  of  the  trouble,  sir,"  replied  Mrs. 
Bardell;  "and  of  course,  I  should  take  more  trouble  to  please  you 
flien  than  ever ;  but  it  is  so  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Pickwick,  to  have  so 
much  consideration  for  my  lon(3liness." 

"  A.h,  to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Pick^vick ;  "  I  never  thought  of  thRt 
When  I  am  in  town  you'll  always. have  somebody  to  sit  ^ith  you. 
To  be  sure,  so  you  will." 

"  1  m  sure  I  ought  to  be  a  very  happy  woman,"  said  Mrs.  B-^rdell. 

"And  your  Httle  boy — "  said  Mr.  Pickvfick. 

"Bless  his  heart,"  interposed  Mrs.  Bardell,  with  a  maternal  sob. 

"Ho,  too,  will  have  a  companion,"  resumed  Mr.  Pickwick,  "a 
flvely  one,  who'll  teach  him,  I'll  be  bound,  more  tricks  in  a  week 
than  he  would  ever  learn  in  a  year."  And  Mr.  Pickwick  smiled 
Dlacidly, 

"  O  you  dear!  "  said  Mrs.  Bardell. 

Mr,  Pickwick  started. 

25 


386  SCIENCE    OF   ELOCUTION. 

"0  you  kind,  good,  playful  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Bardell;  aud  without 
more  ado,  she  rose  from  her  chair  and  flung  her  arms  around  Mr 
Pickwick's  neck,  with  a  cataract  of  tears  and  a  chorus  of  sobs. 

"  Bless  my  soul  I  "  cried  the  astonished  Mr.  Pickwick ;  ''  Mrs.  Bar- 
dell, my  good  woman  —  dear  me,  what  a  situation  — pray  consider, 
Mrs.  Bardell,  don't — if  anybody  should  come — " 

"0  let  them  come!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bardell,  frantically;  "I'll 
never  leave  you — dear,  kind,  good  soul;"  and,  with  these  words 
Mrs.  Bardell  clung  toe  tighter. 

"Mercy  upon  me,"  said  Mr.  Pickwick,  struggling  violently,  "I 
hear  somebody  coming  up  the  stairs.  Don't,  don't,  there's  a  good 
creature,  don't."  But  entreaty  and  remonstrance  were  ahke  unavaih 
'*ng,  for  Mrs.  Bardell  had  fainted  in  Mr.  Pickwick's  arms,  and  before 
he  could  gain  thne  to  deposit  her  on  a  chair,  Master  Bardell  entered 
the  room,  ushering  in  Mr.  Tupman,  Mr.  Wmkle,  and  Mr.  Snodgrass. 


Our  Guide  in  Genoa  and  Rome. 

European  guides  know  their  story  by  heart — the  history  of  every 
statue,  painting,  cathedral,  or  other  wonder  they  show  you.  They 
know  it  and  tell  it  as  a  parrot  would — and  if  you  interrupt  and  throw 
them  off  the  track,  they  have  to  go  back  aud  begin  over  again.  All 
their  lives  long  they  are  employed  in  showing  strange  things  to  for- 
eigners, and  listening  to  their  bursts  of  admiration. 

Tiiink,  then,  what  a  passion  it  becomes  with  a  guide  whose  priv- 
ilege it  is  every  day  to  show  to  strangers  wonders  that  throw  them 
into  perfect  ecstasies  of  admiration !  He  gets  so  that  he  could  not  by 
any  possibihty  hve  in  a  soberer  atmosphere. 

After  we  discovered  this,  we  never  went  into  ecstasies  any  more— 
we  never  admired  any  thing — we  never  showed  any  but  impassible 
faces  and  stupid  indifference  in  the  presence  of  the  subliraest  won- 
ders a  guide  had  to  display.  We  had  found  their  weak  point.  We 
have  made  good  use  of  it  ever  since.  We  have  made  some  of  those 
people  savage,  at  times,  but  we  have  never  lost  our  serenity. 

The  guides  in  Genoa  are  delighted  to  secure  an  American  party,  be- 
cause Americans  so  much  wonder,  and  deal  so  much  in  sentiment  and 
emotion  before  any  relic  of  Columbus.  Our  guide  there  fidgeted  about 
as  if  he  had  swallowed  a  spring  mattress.  He  was  full  of  animation 
— full  of  impatience.     He  said  : — 

"Como  wis  me,  genteelmeni — come!     I  show  you  ze  lettr--  v'--in-y 


HUMOROUS  STYLE.  887 

by  Christopher  Colombo  I — write  it  himself! — write  it  wis  his  own 
hand  I — cornel" 

He  took  us  to  the  municipal  palace.  After  much  impressive  fum- 
bjing  of  keys  and  opening  of  locks,  the  stained  and  aged  document 
was  spread  before  us.  The  guide's  eyes  sparkled.  He  danced  about 
us  and  tapped  tbc  parchment  with  his  finger. 

*'  What  I  tell  you,  genteelmen  1  Is  it  not  so?  See!  hand- writing 
Christopher  Colombo! — wnte  it  himself!  " 

We  looked  indifferent — unconcerned.  The  doctor  examined  tlie 
document  very  deliberately,  during  a  painful  pause.  Then  he  said, 
without  any  show  of  interest: — 

"Ah,  Ferguson — what — what  did  you  say  was  the  name  of  the 
party  who  wrote  tliis  ?  " 

"  Christopher  Colombo !  ze  great  Christopher  Colombo!  " 

Another  deliberate  examination. 

"  Ah — did  he  write  it  himself,  or — or  how  ?  " 

"He  write  it  himself  1 — Christopher  Colombo!  he's  own  hand- 
writing, write  by  himself!  " 

Then  the  doctor  laid  the  document  down  and  said  :— 

"  Why,  I  have  seen  boys  in  America  only  fourteen  years  old  that 
could  write  better  than  that." 

"  But  zis  is  ze  great  Christo — " 

"  I  don't  care  who  it  is !  It's  the  worst  writing  I  ever  saw.  Now 
you  mustn't  think  you  can  impose  on  us  because  we  are  strangers. 
We  are  not  fools  by  a  good  deal.  If  you  have  got  any  specimens 
of  penmanship  of  real  merit,  trot  them  out! — and  if  you  haven't, 
drive  on  I  " 

We  drove  on.  The  guide  was  considerably  shaken  up.  but  he 
made  one  more  venture.  He  had  something  which  he  thouglit  would 
overcome  us.     He  said  : — 

"Ah,  genteelmen,  you  come  wis  mel  I  show  you  beautiful,  0 
magnificent  bust  of  Christopher  Colombo ! — splendid,  grand,  magnifi- 
cent 1 " 

He  brought  u^s  before  the  beautiful  bust — for  it  was  beautiful— and 
sprang  back  and  struck  an  attitude. 

"Ah,  look,  genteelmen! — beautiful,  grand — bust  Christopher  Co- 
lombo ! — beautiful  bust,  beautiful  pedestal  1  " 

The  doctor  put  up  his  eye-glass — procured  for  sucli  occasious. 

"  Ah,  what  did  you  say  this  gentleman's  name  was  ?  " 

"  Christopher  Colombo  !  ze  great  Christopher  Colombo  !  " 

"Christopher  Colombo! — the  great  Christopher  Colombo.  Well 
what  did.  he  do  V^ 


888  SCIENCE   OF   ELOCUTION. 

"Discover  America  1 — discover  America,  0,  ze  devil!  " 

"  Discover  America  I  No — that  statement  will  hardly  wash.  "We 
are  just  from  America  ourselves.  lYe  heard  nothing  about  it.  Chris- 
topher Colombo — pleasant  name — is — is  he  dead?  " 

'  0,  corpo  di  Baccho  I — three  hundred  year !  " 

"What  did  ho  die  of?" 

"  I  do  not  know.     I  cannot  tell." 

''  Small-pox,  think  ?  " 

''  1  do  not  know,  genteelmen — I  do  not  know  what  he  die  of." 

"Measles,  likely?" 

*'  Maybe — maybe.     I  do  not  know — I  think  ho  die  of  somethings." 

"Parents  living?" 

"  Imposseeble  I " 

*'  Ah — which  is  the  bust  and  which  is  the  pedestal  ?  " 

"  Santa  Marie  \—zis  ze  bust ! — zis  ze  pedestal  I  " 

"Ah,  I  see,  I  see — chappy  combination — very  happy  combination 
indeed.  Is — is  this  the  first  time  this  gentleman  was  ever  on  a 
bust?" 

That  joke  was  lost  on  the  foreigner — guides  cannot  master  the  sub- 
tleties of  the  American  joke. 

"We  have  made  it  interesting  for  this  Roman  guide.  Yesterday  we 
spent  three  or  four  hours  in  the  Yatican  again,  that  wonderful  world 
of  curiosities.  We  came  veiy  near  expressing  interest  sometimes, 
even  admiration.  It  was  hard  to  keep  from  it.  He  had  reserved 
what  he  considered  to  be  his  greatest  wonder  till  the  last — a  royal 
Egyptian  mummy,  the  best  preserved  in  the  world,  perhaps.  He 
took  us  there.  He  felt  so  sure,  this  time,  that  some  of  his  old  en' 
thusiasm  came  back  to  him. 

"  See,  genteelmen  !     Mummy  1     Mummy  1 " 

The  eye-glass  came  up  as  calmly,  as  deliberately  as  ever. 

"  Ah,  Ferguson,  what  did  I  understand  you  to  say  the  gentleman's 
name  was  ?  " 

"Name  ?     Ho  got  no  name  I     Mummy!     'Gyptian  mummy!  " 

"  Yes,  yes.     Born  here  ?  " 

•'  No,     '  Gyptian  mummy." 

"  Ah,  just  so.     Frenchman,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  No  I — not  Frenchman,  not  Roman! — born  in  EgT[)ta !  " 

"  Born  in  Egypta.  Never  heard  of  Egypta  before.  Foreign  local- 
ity, likely.  Mummy — mummy.  How  calm  he  is,  how  self-possessed  i 
Is—  ah ! — is  he  dead  ?  " 

"0  sacre  hleul  been  dead  three  thousan'  year!  " 

The  doctor  turned  on  him  savagely : — 


HUMOROUS  STYLE.  389 

"  Here,  now,  what  do  you  mean  by  such  conduct  as  this  I  Playing 
us  for  Chinamen  because  we  are  strangers  and  tvjiug  to  learn !  Try- 
ing to  impose  your  vile  second-hand  carcasses  on  icsf  I've  a  notion 
to — to — .  If  you've  got  a  nice  fresh  corpse,  fetch  him  out  1 — or  we'll 
'mummy'  you." 

We  made  it  exceedingly  interesting  for  this  Frenchman.  However, 
he  has  paid  us  back,  partly,  without  knowing  it.  He  came  to  the 
hotel  this  morning  to  ask  if  we  were  up,  and  he  endeavored,  as  well 
as  he  could,  to  describe  us  so  that  the  landlord  would  know  which 
persons  he  meant.  He  finished  with  the  casual  remark  that  we  were 
lunatics.  The  observation  was  so  innocent  and  so  honest  that  it 
amounted  to  a  very  good  thing  for  a  guide  to  say. 


THE  END. 


VB  36869 


^4iSGS 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


